


Best Mistake

by UchihaNaruto_2



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcoholism, Cheating, F/F, F/M, Fem!Sasuke, Flashback fic, Forbidden Love, M/M, Magic, Monarchy, Royalty, Secret Relationship, Set in Medieval times, Sexual Content, a little bit of family love but not too much, a lot of other made up stuff, also lots of lying, concubines and consorts, dont worry it wont awful, fem!madara - Freeform, im hoping for it to be rather grand, im trying not to miss tags but i am, it’s secondary characters, magic nature, minor homophobia, naruto is actually a senju, pls bear with me, prompt, sasuke is forever a kenjutsu master no matter what the incarnation is, she likes knives, so crazy, swordplay!sasuke, the archive warnings are only mentioned and not described in detail., the title is bad but what is new, then and now parallels, this fic is more on the serious side tho, this is a challenge!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 89,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23897656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UchihaNaruto_2/pseuds/UchihaNaruto_2
Summary: Once upon a time, Konoha was a large kingdom ruled for generations by the Uchiha. After decades of war steeped in bad blood with the neighboring Senju, King Itachi has decided that it is time to unite the two houses once and for all.It just so happens that this comes at the sake of his sister, Princess Sasuke, who would rather die than marry Naruto.Despite their differences, can they come together for the greater good of the realm? Or will the two factions be driven to war again?
Relationships: Gaara/Rock Lee, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Inuzuka Kiba/Original Female Character(s), Karin/Uchiha Obito, Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna, Uchiha Fugaku/Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Mikoto/Uzumaki Kushina, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Uzumaki Mito/Original Character(s)
Comments: 97
Kudos: 103





	1. Prologue - Dream Maker, Heart Breaker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freakontour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakontour/gifts).



> hi!!! i know that i’m nowhere near finished with my other fic but i was just getting too excited about this one. 
> 
> this is for you, freakontour! i’m having way too much fun with this idea so far and i hope you especially enjoy this first chapter.
> 
> madara is the hbic
> 
> as for the more serious tags, please be aware that those aren’t going to be described in heavy detail, but i still felt the need to be completely transparent about what i plan to have in this particular piece. read at your own risk, lovelies!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moon river - frank ocean

Uchiha Madara knew many things. She knew things about animals, about space, about cooking. She knew how to sew, how to read and write, and how to speak three different languages. She knew how to speak to the hearts of her people to make them love her or fear her. She knew the difference between someone who wanted to help her and someone who wanted to use her.

What she did not know, even after 21 years, was how to read the emotions of a man.

There was something that this man was not telling her.

“What’s on your mind?” Madara ran her callused fingertips over the lines that bracketed his frown, into the etches in Hashirama’s forehead. His eyebrows were drawn together. She could see this even on a night so pitch black as this. Not even the stars had come out tonight to interrupt their rendezvous. Usually, there was nothing that he could hide from her, but the open book of Hashirama’s mind was mysteriously closed tonight. A slow spring breeze stirred Hashirama’s hair from his face, further revealing what could only be described as turmoil going on in his eyes. Those eyes would not catch Madara’s, no matter how hard she tried. He seemed fixated on the flow of the river that sprawled its way across the courtyard of Madara’s grand chambers. It was dangerous to be out here, even under the cover of this ancient tree, but Madara lived for danger. She lived for anything, as long as Hashirama was involved. 

“It’s nothing, my sweet,” Hashirama said. A lie. Madara’s own eyebrow quirked and she drew her hand back from his face. 

“You should know better than to lie to me,” Madara quipped. She saw him sigh, and then closed her eyes against the sensation of his fingers sliding into her long, black, untamable hair. The top was flat because that was where her crown sat, but Hashirama’s hand added volume to it by pushing it up. 

“It isn’t a lie,” Hashirama tried. No use. He shook his head and took his hand from Madara’s hair, causing her eyes to flick open. It was growing annoying, the way that he was beating around the bush. 

Madara huffed a breath and crossed her arms over the deep purple silk of her night clothes. “You are not the type to not say what is on your mind. It is one of the things that I love about you, among many.” It was not lost on Madara the way that Hashirama closed his eyes at the word _love_. “Tell me what is on your mind, or leave. I don’t have time for this.” Her voice was strong despite how quietly she spoke.

Hashirama sighed, a pained sound. Whatever he was about to say was going to hurt him a lot more than it hurt Madara. That was the way he made it seem. But when he spoke the words, he _must_ have known that the way he felt would not compare. He had to know. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t look upon her face.

“It has been decided that I… must wed another,” Hashirama said, carefully, so as not to upset Madara. But it was impossible. 

In an instant, she was on her feet and looking down upon him with contempt. “Another? And who might this woman be?” Her hands on her hips, she felt a sort of indescribable anger crawling up her spine, like the frenzied growth of vines up a tree.

“Uzumaki Mito,” Hashirama breathed. “It’s for the good of the realm, is what I have been told.”

Madara snorted at the thought. She’d met the Uzumaki woman on quite a few occasions, since Uzushio had recently been brought into the fold of the higher houses. She was sloppy and held little regard for the power a woman may wield over a man, or over many men. She had not even a general grasp of politics or how to rule. She came from a people of _wind_ magic. Wind. The lowest of the low, really. And it didn’t help that Madara knew what the woman looked like, and she could not compare in that department, either. Still, Madara felt that she might be sick. She retreated from Hashirama’s gaze behind the tree they’d been sitting under. A hand came out to hold her weight as she leaned heavily against the tree’s strong trunk. She could barely stand. Madara’s fingers curled around the lip of a knothole in the tree, the one that Hashirama liked to hide little trinkets or notes for her, where he knew that no one else would look. Madara didn’t realize that she was crying until she felt a tear hit one of her toes. She wrenched herself free when Hashirama’s warm hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“No, don’t touch me!” Madara screamed. Hashirama took a step back, held a hand up, and gazed upon Madara with pleading eyes that shone bright with the light of the crescent moon above their heads.

“Please, my love, do not yell,” he implored her. Madara crossed her arms again, in an attempt to calm herself down. 

“How long have you known?” Madara whispered. Her voice could not grow any louder, lest she risk her words breaking and looking even more weak in front of this man. This _liar._ This liar that she was hopelessly in love with, had been forever, and would be for the rest of her pathetic and jealous existence.

He did not seem to want to answer the question.

“Tell me, right now,” Madara spit. She took a step closer, and then another, until she was standing just inches from Hashirama. She was perched upon a root of the tree, which gave her just the slightest height advantage over him. Seeing him look up at her was a feeling Madara could not replicate, especially at a time like this. She needed to feel any ounce of power that she could squeeze out of the situation.

“A moon, maybe a month and a half,” Hashirama mumbled. Madara nearly tripped as she stumbled away from him again. 

“You’ve been here four times in that span,” Madara yelled, “four times! Four times, and you didn’t think to tell me?” She turned her body from him and fell to her knees. The hem of her night gown was getting wet from the water of the small stream, but it hardly mattered. Her knees in the dirt, Madara’s fist closed around a chunk of mud, and then she let it fall between her fingers. She used the same hand to wipe at her tears again, not caring one bit that she was smearing dirt and water all over her face. She gasped when Hashirama kneeled beside her, and turned her body away again, pushing herself further into the stream. 

“I did not have the words,” Hashirama said. Madara could hear his remorse, but it was too late. She did not take kindly to betrayal. She was the same queen who had ordered her mother away after it seemed that she was plotting to have her removed from the throne in favor of Izuna. She was the same queen who had seen countless villages and farms burned because of rumors of usurpation and mutiny. She was the same queen who had people hanged if she thought they might be speaking against her. Her people loved her, but she knew the ways to whip them into shape. A little fear only strengthened her rule. But she could not do any of those things to Hashirama. She _would_ not send him away, she _could_ not have him hanged. There was never any formal betrothal between the two of them. For all of her power, she was helpless to the love she had for him, and the dam she usually stored it behind was about to break.

“And somehow you found the words tonight? When is this wedding set for, hm?” Madara craned her neck to see Hashirama’s sullen face, his tanned skin, his dark eyes, his even darker hair. Spitting words at him felt like running a hot brand over her tongue. She had never wanted to be the cause of this look on his face. Madara shivered despite herself, and despite the fire in her veins. The water was making her cold. Her hair was so long that on her knees like this, the ends of it were getting wet too. She would have a hell of a time explaining this to her brother. 

“The wedding is set for a fortnight,” Hashirama said. Madara scoffed and slid across the dirt on her knees, getting her hair caught in mud in the process. 

“A grand affair, I expect,” Madara said through gritted teeth. “How beautiful. The love of my life, marrying someone two steps above a peasant.” Madara laughed a mirthless laugh.

“Ma… do not speak of my betrothed in such a manner,” Hashirama said. Madara whipped her body around to face him once more. Her night gown tore at the bottom and she scraped her knees hard against a rock that was jutting out of the water. The fury she felt numbed the pain of her skin breaking.

“Your _betrothed_? My ears do deceive me. Do you care about this woman, this slop? Is that why you couldn’t find the _words_ to tell me?” Madara’s voice grew louder with every question. She was incredulous, at a loss. But just as fast as it came, her anger drained away and she threw herself into the grass. 

“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, don’t you know that?” Madara was sobbing now, so her words were cut up and shaky. Hashirama crawled on his hands and knees and leaned over her. Though her face was streaked with dirt and mud, he still reached to touch her and caress her cheek. 

“I _know_ ,” he said weakly. “It wasn’t my choice, I wouldn’t ever choose anyone over you.”

“I’ll kill her.” Madara’s eyes were alight and she glared hard at Hashirama. 

“Please—”

“I’ll kill myself!” Madara exclaimed. “If I can’t have you with me, then I have nothing left. Nothing at all. No amount of _wealth_ or _power_ will ever amount to the way that I feel when I am with you.” 

“Ma, _please._ ”

Madara sat up and allowed herself to be cradled by Hashirama. He buried his face into her hair. She could feel that he was crying, too, his shoulders being wracked with his emotion. Madara squeezed her eyes shut tight. 

It just couldn’t be real. Hashirama would belong to someone else in the eyes of the kingdom, the courts, his family, _her_ family. Those scum in Uzushio would have something coming to them, that was for certain. Mito the pig at the top of the list. Madara made no misrepresentations; she was jealous and she was vengeful. Why not be? If you have the power to make someone suffer for making you suffer, why not? If she felt that something belonged to her, then it was _hers_. Land, money, military power, a dress, a meal, a room, _Hashirama_. No one else was entitled to it until she was finished with it. Madara flicked her eyes open. The fire in her veins was beginning to curl around her heart, creating something of a vice grip. No, she wouldn’t kill Mito, and she wouldn’t kill herself. There was only one thing that she could do.

“Come to bed,” Madara mumbled, interrupting Hashirama’s sobbing. Hashirama stopped crying long enough to hold her at an arm’s length and raise an eyebrow. 

“You’ll still have me?” He asked, surprise evident all over his face.

Madara nodded, blinked her eyes sweetly and put a hand on one of Hashirama’s arms. “Of course, Hashi. After all,” she said, and she had to work hard not to grit her teeth, “this wasn’t your choice.”

There was suspicion in Hashirama’s eyes, but he didn’t seem to want to look a gift horse in the mouth. They snuck back up to Madara’s bed chamber. It seemed darker than the outside, because it was decorated in rich purples and indigos that mimicked the hue of the sky on a night like this. Only a few of the sconces were still lit, and they were burning low. The purple curtains, so dark that they were nearly black, were blowing open lazily as they covered the grand arched windows. The chamber was large enough to house two full, four poster beds and a seating area, as well as a fireplace and walls full of bookshelves. She had more books in here than the royal library (because she had been stealing books and bringing them back up here with her since she was just a tiny princess). There were tapestries on the walls, depicting great battles across the history of Uchiha. There were rich, intricately stitched carpets from foreign lands, gifts from their rulers in exchange for money or land. There was a desk in one corner of the room, full of scrolls unopened and letters unfinished. In a drawer at this desk was where Madara kept all of the things Hashirama had ever given to her; a rock in the shape of a heart, a beautiful ruby necklace “to match the fire in her eyes,” countless letters and notes expressing his love for her. 

Madara made one of her chambermaids draw her a bath. “When I get out of this water, flee these chambers as far as you can. Alert no one, but get away from here,” Madara whispered. The woman only nodded and poured something that smelled of roses in Madara’s bath water. Hashirama sat at Madara’s side while she bathed. She reached for his face and he leaned closer, allowing her to touch even though her hand was wet with rosy water and suds.

“Do you love me, Hashirama?” Madara asked, her voice saccharine. Her chambermaid was struggling a comb through her hair as she spoke.

“I do,” Hashirama said, nodding like a dope.

Madara withdrew her hand from his face and ran it over her own, to scrub some of the mud off. “Help me out?” She lifted her arms and leaned heavily against Hashirama as he hoisted her from the water. Madara gave her maid a look, and after the water had been poured out, she bowed out of the room. Madara heard her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she fled. Hashirama helped Madara get dry, and she deigned to put on any more night clothes before they fell into her bed.

Hashirama, his poor _soul,_ was so exhausted that he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the satin of the pillowcase. Madara leaned over Hashirama’s body to admire him. Asleep, his features were at peace. His eyes weren’t straining, just closed. His expression was blank, but there still almost seemed to be a smile playing across his lips. Madara fingered the earring that hung from Hashirama’s lobe, gold and sparkling in the dim light of the embers of her sconces. His neck was adorned with a single necklace, the pendant showing the crest of his house. There was a large tree with vines snaking around it, the sun shining behind it, and a sword laying beneath the tree, over its roots. The crest was colored in red, black, and green. Madara had seen it thousands of times before. She’d flounced about in Hashirama’s armor, giggling when it clanked and slid from her shoulders. She’d been sent gifts with the crest branded on them in wax. There was a version of it on one of the tapestries on her wall. Madara pressed a kiss to Hashirama’s cheek, though his hair obscured his skin from her lips. He blew a hard breath in his sleep and put his arm out, searching for her. She wondered what he dreamed about. He told her, sometimes, when they woke up in the middle of the night to a sound outside or to a servant coming to wait on one of them. He dreamed about the stars, and plants. He dreamed about her, and her hair, her smile, her eyes. He dreamt of ruling with her, of bringing the Senju and Uchiha together for good. He dreamt of a family, and living to grow old with her. Madara felt a hot pain in her chest, growing hotter the longer she looked upon his face.

Madara was still naked when she slunk from the bed. She wrapped a robe around her lithe body and stood over Hashirama for a moment. She loved him, she had loved him forever. Since the day she met him, when she was small and he was only slightly bigger. Since the time he had a bowl haircut, since the time he could barely wield a sword. He was a hero now, and a lord over a large chunk of the kingdom. Only the best for her lover. And, alright, they hadn’t ever been formally engaged in the courts. But Madara had always assumed that it would be him. There was no one else for her. No one else for _him_. She’d make sure of it.

She wouldn’t kill Mito, and she wouldn’t kill herself. A tear rolled down Madara’s face as she slipped from her chamber and slid down the wall next to the ornately carved wooden door. 

“ _Katon_ ,” she whispered, and blew into her closed palm. The smallest wisp of a flame sat there when she opened her hand, burning brighter than the sun at noon. She blew a little more into her cupped hands and then set it free, right on the edge of the door. She didn’t wince when she heard the flame catch. Madara took slow steps as she wandered back down to the courtyard. She could see the glow of the fire when she turned her head up to where she knew her chambers were. Smoke began to rise, though it was shrouded when it hit the sky. The smoke and the night were nearly the same color.

Something crashed, a window as its glass was blown out. It was stained glass, and the mosaic had been of Madara’s ancient ancestor, one of the creators of the world. A piece of the red glass that made up Kaguya’s eyes landed just inches from one of Madara’s toes, and that’s when Madara realized what she had done. It was too late to feel anything about it, though. 

She was numb even as she heard the castle coming alive with panic. “Help, help! The queen’s room is on fire!” A guard was screaming, and more following him. Madara sat underneath the tree, and turned her back on the fire. She ran her shaking fingers over the “MH” scratched out into the bark. This was an old scar, by now. She kissed her fingertips and pressed them once more to the letters. She loved Hashirama. Loved him to the death of her, to the death of _him._ He belonged to her, in her life. If there was no chance, then let there be no chance. No chance at new life, no chance at new love. Madara would rather die, would rather be dead, than to live and know that Hashirama stood before another woman and her family, and _vowed_ to her all the things he’d promised Madara. She would not stand for it. She would rather be dead than to live and know that Hashirama went to bed with another woman, sat with another woman as she bathed, spent tender moments with another woman in _any_ context. They would have children, Madara realized with disgust. Her feeling of regret ebbed and flowed harder and harder the longer she watched the fire grow. Smoke was billowing out of the windows of hers and Izuna’s chambers, by now. It was coming out onto the courtyard where she sat, but she didn’t care. Splinters of burning wood flew out from small explosions all across the upper level of the chambers. The hot glass and burning wood whipped past Madara and lit some of the grass in small patches so that all around her were tiny fires. Madara drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. This was her life. The end of her life. It didn’t matter.

Something caught on her hair, and when she looked, a piece of it had singed off. She was numb. She watched as her hair burned free from her body and only thought to put it out when it began to smell. There was a panic, an uproar as the castle staff tried to put the fire out. The only way to put the fire out was with magic, but Madara wasn’t going to tell anyone that. 

“Madara!” 

She turned slowly, dazedly, in the direction of the voice calling her name, but she sprang to attention when a hand closed around her arm and snatched her up into a standing position. 

“Izuna, I—”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Do not _speak_. I know that you have done this.” 

Madara dug her toe into the moss. “I apologize, brother.”

“You apologize.” Izuna scoffed. “Do you apologize for killing three men so far and many more yet to come as they try to stop your madness? Or, maybe, do you apologize for starting a magic fire, when you know you will be tried for arson? Perhaps, you apologize for nearly killing the highest lord of our greatest ally?”

Madara looked up at this. “Hashi lives?”

Izuna nodded petulantly. “Yes, he lives. Found him in distress on your bed, smelling faintly of roses.” Izuna leveled Madara with a stern look. “My sister, my queen. Why have you done this?” His hand touched her chin and his eyes softened just as fast as they had grown hard. He would never understand her, but he was the only one that had ever come close. Him and Hashirama.

Madara gave Izuna a defiant look in reply to his tender expression. “I don’t want to live without him. And he doesn’t get to live without me.”


	2. Over My Dead Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requirement #3 fulfilled:  
> “Whatever you might think you’re doing, stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve been sitting on this for like a week, i just kept adding to it until it went from 4 to 7k  
> nothing too heavy in this chapter, just general antics. i hope you all enjoy!
> 
> over my dead body - drake

**_ Sasuke _ **

“Brother, it is far too hot to ride in this litter,” Sasuke declared. Her intricately braided hair was sticking to the back of her neck, and she knew that Itachi’s must have been, too.

Mikoto whipped her head around to Sasuke and fixed her with harsh eyes. “Hush your complaining, Sasuke,” she said sharply. “It is an honor to ride above those who serve you.”

Sasuke rolled her eyes and turned her face away from her mother. As always, Itachi remained silent on the matter of their bickering and instead continued to speak about the business he would be tending to on this trip. 

“When we cross the border, you will continue on horseback,” Itachi said as though Sasuke hadn’t spoken. “That way, the people may see your face, and know that we come in peace.”

Sasuke grumbled about how stupid that was, but Itachi ignored her once again and continued. “Next, when we arrive at the palace, we will be greeted by the escort. They will take us to have audience with the king, his mother, and those in his court,” Itachi said. The _king._ Sasuke snorted at the thought of the _boy_. Senju Naruto was nothing more than a page wearing a king’s robes. He was a year Sasuke’s senior, and Itachi always saw fit to mention this age difference, as though it meant that Naruto was mature. He was not. (Well, he hadn’t been the last time Sasuke had spent any extended time around him, which must have been close to 5 or 6 years ago at that point. Still, a year did not change very much between them in terms of mindset, and she had always been the more mature of the two of them, anyway.) 

Naruto wasn’t so vile to look upon, with his bright blue eyes, shining white teeth, and hair like the sun. He stood tall enough and his body seemed fit underneath his armor that bore the crest of his house, though it also featured a swirling gust behind the tree, since that was the magic style of his maternal house. He was funny, from what Sasuke remembered, when he wasn’t being awful. When he kept his mouth shut, he looked the perfect part of a monarch in Sasuke’s mind. It wasn’t any of those things. It was the fact that once he _did_ open his mouth, he was obnoxious and stupid. He hardly acted like a lord, let alone a prince, _forget_ a king. Sasuke remembered vaguely that when they were younger, Naruto made fun of her whenever she played with her wooden swords or flexed her power with a loaded bow. He was just jealous, she reckoned, that she could defend herself, and that she didn’t fancy to sit around with tea and gossip like all of the other women he’d ever met, to include his beastly mother. She had also heard of his many political blunders over the years and wondered how he’d managed to not have the kingdom of Senju destroyed due simply to his extreme negligence.

“What’s the point of this, again?” Sasuke asked. Mikoto cut her eyes at Sasuke, but she pretended not to notice.

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is a surprise, my princess,” Itachi said evenly. “Trust me, I think you will enjoy this visit. The prince is quite handsome. At the very least, my offer will do something to bring both the Senju and the Uzumaki back onto the side of Uchiha. Maybe even the Namikaze, if this is played correctly.” Sasuke could tell by Itachi’s tone that this was the least favorable outcome, and that he had a much more grand plan in store. She didn’t know what the prince being handsome had to do with anything, though. Handsomely wealthy, maybe.

“Your offer? Offer of what? _Wines_ and _meats_? Or maybe gold… precious metals? And who cares about having the _wind_ people on our side?” Sasuke knew very much about magic (another thing that Naruto was jealous of her for when they were younger), and she knew that wind was stronger than nothing and weaker than everything, fire in particular. She had never understood the interest in allowing such… unskilled magic to remain in a royal bloodline. If anyone wanted to, they could so easily conquer the Senju that it wasn’t funny. Sure, they were skilled with swords, but there was _earth_ and _fire_ and _water_ to contend with. Wind did not, and never had, stand up to these superior magics. Some kingdoms, far away in lands covered in swirling sand or shrouded in mist, had managed to breed _two_ different magics into their royals. 

The Namikaze were also of little interest to Sasuke. She didn’t think that they even harbored magic, and if they did, it was little known. The house had only been raised because of the union of Naruto’s parents, but they were far away and Sasuke knew little about them. All she was certain of was that Naruto’s father had been of peasant-level parentage, and that was all she really _needed_ to know.

Mikoto huffed an annoyed breath. “Sasuke, do be quiet. You’re going to ruin this trip for me. So many questions are unbecoming of a lady.”

“I’m not a lady,” Sasuke replied, “I’m the princess.”

“And you’d do well to act like it,” Mikoto said snidely. It shut Sasuke’s mouth, but did nothing to make her racing mind any less frantic and thirsty for answers. Why was this all so important? And why did Mikoto seem faintly excited to come here? She had been talking about this for a few days now, and Sasuke could a faint _smile_ playing across Mikoto’s lips as the silence stretched. She was a witch that never smiled unless she was inflicting pain upon someone. Sasuke was beyond suspicious by this point. She just hoped that if there would be pain involved, it wouldn’t be inflicted upon her.

Itachi’s plan was carried out the way he’d described it. When she was finally set free from the confines of the litter, Sasuke sat atop her horse. She inhaled a long breath, taking in the stagnant air. It was the season between spring and summer, and while it was beautiful, it was _hot_. Still, anything was better than sitting in that carpeted death box with her mother and brother. Sasuke patted her blonde horse and thanked her under her breath for being such a steady steed. In the outside air, Sasuke’s mind cleared up enough to go back over the conversation she’d just had with her family. Itachi was bringing her all the way across the border to make the Senju an offer. Sasuke didn’t have any idea what this had to do with her, or their mother. She rolled her eyes up to the cloudless sky as Mikoto crossed her mind. Being the queen mother had not calmed Mikoto’s bossy tendencies one bit. If anything, they had been stoked since Itachi had first sat the throne almost 6 years ago. Itachi did nearly everything she said with less than a second thought, unless it was extremely heinous and involved the senseless death of multiple people (which was how most of her schemes seemed to end). Sasuke hoped that this trip would yield Itachi a wife, so that maybe Mikoto would finally sit back, mind her own business, and stop telling everyone what to do.

Sasuke looked down upon the people of the Senju kingdom as the Uchiha royal party crossed the bridge that connected the two factions. On poles dozens of feet high, the Senju banners flew tall and proud. In color, the crest was red for the background, black for the tree and the sword at its roots, green for the leaves and the vines swirling around the tree trunk, and blue for the wind. Sasuke’s horse trotted along the cobbled bridge at a leisurely pace, and Sasuke took the time to observe Naruto’s kingdom. It was vast, though not as large as the portion of Konoha that was occupied by the Uchiha. There were rolling hills in Sasuke’s view, and just past it there lay the farmlands. 

The capital city was sprawling. They passed tiny streets with open air markets. Sasuke could hear vendors yelling their wares, as well as the general cacophony of wild animals and poor children running about. They passed larger, more central avenues; these were better kempt because important traffic such as the king and foreign visitors frequented them. The closer to the borders, the shoddier the houses were. They were more like hovels. Sasuke could hear babies wailing inside the houses, and see dogs of all sorts traipsing the alleyways and in front of her horse. At the top of a central hill sat the Senju palace, in all its ancient glory. Sasuke had spent plenty of time there in her younger years, but tensions had grown high again while she was growing up. It was around the time that Itachi became king, because there were whispers that the Senju were plotting to have King Fugaku killed, and then he suspiciously ended up dead. His cause of death, though ruled natural, was still disputed in the courts to this day. The ruling wasn’t announced until Mikoto had already fled the Senju capital with her children. The party suddenly came to a halt, and there was a tension in the air as the people waited for something to be said. Sasuke wondered how people knew that they were coming. There were whispers going up when the silence began to stretch too long, before the announcer spoke with his loud, booming voice that carried all throughout the crowd.

“The King Itachi of Uchiha, wise beyond his years!”

There was fanfare and a general cheer went up as Itachi dismounted from the litter. 

“Mikoto, the queen mother, beauty unbound!”

Mikoto preened under the attention of the Senju subjects. Sasuke felt great annoyance at the coy smile Mikoto threw to her left and right as she waved. Sometimes, it was impossible to understand Mikoto’s need for attention. She was never happier than when someone was paying her a compliment, but Sasuke had always been the opposite, more like her father in that respect, though she was loath to admit even to herself that she was anything like that murderous man.

“The Princess Sasuke of Uchiha, fair and sweet!”

Sasuke grimaced as the escort approached her and her horse. She dismounted, and her feet had just hit the ground when a tall and lean man with long, flowing white hair pulled back into a ponytail came to her and kissed her hand. 

“Sweetest Sasuke.”

Sasuke nodded. “Master Jiraiya,” she replied. He looked like he was aging in reverse. Sasuke could have sworn to Kaguya that Jiraiya looked the same as the last day Sasuke had seen him, all those years ago. Despite her reservations about this trip, she was at least excited to see him. Watching him wield a sword was one of her favorite pastimes, and she was curious to know if he’d learned anything new that he might be able to teach her. 

Craning her neck, Sasuke watched as Jiraiya greeted Mikoto and Itachi in turn. “I trust the journey was short and pleasant?”

Itachi gave a small smile. “Short and hot, Master.”

“It isn’t what they’d call balmy out here today, I do agree,” Jiraiya said. He clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together before addressing Sasuke. “Alright! Princess, are you ready for your audience with my god-son?”

Sasuke grimaced to hide her confusion. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she muttered under her breath. _Her_ audience? She’d thought this was Itachi’s trip. 

Itachi fixed her with a stern look before the warmth returned to his face. He placed a hand on Jiraiya’s shoulder. Sasuke snickered behind her hand at the fact that Jiraiya still towered over Itachi, though Itachi was growing close to 24 years old now. “Actually, Master, I was wondering if his Highness could wait just an hour or so longer? There is something I must discuss with my sister,” Itachi explained, turning fretful eyes over his shoulder to glance at Sasuke.

“An hour? Well, you know the boy.” Jiraiya scratched his chin. “Make it quick,” he said eventually. “He wouldn’t want to be kept waiting too long to look upon _this_ face.” He pinched Sasuke’s cheek, and she rubbed her face when he let go. 

“What’s this meeting between kings have to do with me?” Sasuke asked to the empty air. No one seemed to want to answer her, but Jiraiya gave Itachi a look. 

“Are you sure you’ll only need an hour?” 

Itachi’s face was grave. “I do not plan on keeping his Highness Senju waiting too long on account of my negligence.” Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, but he remained silent on this topic and instead bid them still to follow him the short distance to the castle. 

Sasuke took in the tall turrets and the cracking stone of these ancient towers and walls. The Uchiha palace was a lot newer than this, and Sasuke could certainly tell as she passed beneath a crumbling archway. As she ran a hand across a column, a piece of the stone chipped off beneath her fingertips. The brick was aging and yellow, but there was still a charm to it. Vines and other vegetation shoved themselves into the crevices that the years of wear and weathering had created, making the palace feel as though it had sprouted from the ground along with the trees and grass around it. Every place Sasuke turned her head, she saw the banners hanging, bearing the Senju crest, as well as flags with the old crest of Konoha from before the war, which featured both the Senju and Uchiha crests of old. The drawbridge creaked beneath the weight of the Uchiha royal party, and Sasuke made sure to watch her step for weak spots in the wood.

In the outer bailey, there were squires sparring and pages underfoot. Sasuke was nearly bowled over by a small boy with dirt brown hair as he bolted across the yard. “Sorry, miss!” he called over his shoulder. Sasuke realized that he was probably so young, he hadn’t been born the last time she’d been here. She sighed with this revelation. 

Sasuke took in the extravagance of the castle itself with wide eyes. The castle and its towers cut a striking silhouette against the clouds, and as they got closer Sasuke could see some of the windows were adorned with stained glass. Past the inner wall, Sasuke inhaled deeply the scents of stock animals and hounds, as well as what must have been the knights’ quarters. She hadn’t been here since she was a very small girl, because her father had never allowed her to stray too far out of his sight. Of course, Itachi would let her run about with the pages if she promised not to tell and not to get herself too mussed. Even if she came back with stained clothes, scratches on her hands and face, and sticks and nettles in her hair, Itachi would always cover for her, and swindle a treat from one of the elder cooks when the night had nearly drawn to a close. Everyone always took a shine to Itachi, Sasuke thought with a bitterness. 

“Would you prefer a private chamber for your business?” Jiraiya asked Itachi as they walked, turning his head back. His red cape, the color of a deep vermillion sunset, and his bright white hair moved with him, and Sasuke could smell a faint musk coming from him that was familiar. He smelled of moss and mud, because he always trained outside, as well as sweat and general man scents.

“That would be preferable, yes,” Itachi said. Sasuke made a face at the back of her brother’s head. What exactly was this business? She hurried her footsteps so that she might hear them better, and only just missed tripping on her dress because Mikoto caught her hard by her arm.

“Mind yourself and your business. You will know soon enough what your brother has planned. I forbid you from ruining this for me.” Mikoto gave Sasuke a condescending look, down her nose. Sasuke flared her nostrils as she huffed out an annoyed breath, but didn’t reply with words. She was getting more and more confused, and ticked off because no one was telling her what was going on. 

The front doors of the castle, gilded and carved in the likeness of a tree, were thrown open just as they came into Sasuke’s view. There to greet the Uchiha were the royals of Senju; Naruto, his mother Kushina, and her sister Karin. Naruto’s blonde hair was a sharp contrast to that of Kushina and Karin, who both had inherited the fiery tresses of the Uzumaki from their mother Mito. Naruto’s late father, Namikaze Minato, had bequeathed his son with his sunny hair and most of his facial features. However, it was Kushina that Naruto took after in nearly every other aspect of behavior and general temperament.

Sasuke watched with slight contempt as her mother and Kushina rushed for one another. They embraced like children, and examined each other closely as though no one else was watching. Sasuke quirked an eyebrow at how _friendly_ they suddenly became around one another. Itachi greeted Karin and Naruto in turn, before everyone’s eyes turned to Sasuke.

“You did not disappoint in your description of your lovely princess,” Naruto remarked to Itachi. Sasuke could have spit on him, the pompous idiot. She sulked behind her horse, hoping to pretend that she wasn’t there long enough that everyone would forget about her.

“My king,” Jiraiya said hastily, “there is still a small matter that must be discussed between Itachi and his princess.”

Sasuke looked up in time to see Naruto’s eyes on her, and she shot her own back down to the ground near one of her horse’s feet. “Make it fast,” Naruto said dismissively. “I do not want to miss a single extra moment with her.” At this, Sasuke made a face at the dirt. Why should she care what _boy_ Naruto wanted? His feelings meant nothing to her. 

Itachi grasped Sasuke’s hand and they were led by Jiraiya to a small, minimalistically decorated chamber with a plain stone table and some wooden chairs. The sun cut a straight line across the floor and the table, and Sasuke avoided stepping into it at all costs, else she’d start sweating from the heat. “The king will be expecting you sooner rather than later. He has pushed back other hearings to see you, so do try to make haste.,” Jiraiya said. He gave them each a low sweeping bow and then left them to the room. 

Itachi pulled a chair out for Sasuke to sit in, but she ignored it. “What is going on?” She asked, tapping her foot impatiently. “What does everyone know that I don’t? What did you tell that _oaf_ about me?”

Itachi took the seat that he’d pulled out for Sasuke and steepled his hands. “Please, try to understand my position.”

Sasuke crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t try to hide the curl of her lips as she scowled. “Tell me, brother, what is your position?”

“That of the king,” Itachi said. “That of someone who is sick of seeing tensions rise and fall for naught.”

“What does that have to do with me? What does _any_ of this have to do with me? I am but the lowly princess of Uchiha,” Sasuke said dramatically. She leaned against a window arch, throwing her arm over her eyes to play the part of damsel in distress. “Who gives a care about me? You said it yourself, _you_ are the king. You have always been the more important of the two of us.”

Itachi didn’t seem to be too interested in her theatrics. “Sasuke, this visit has everything to do with you,” he said seriously. Sasuke stood up straight and pouted. “You don’t really think I would have had you and Mother come all this way if it wasn’t your business as well?”

Sasuke flounced over to the table and sat down next to her brother after shifting the chair to face him. “Will you just tell me plainly?” she pleaded.

Itachi’s eyes were so serious that Sasuke felt the need to look away, to escape. But she was too old for that, 21 years old now, and she couldn’t run away from things that made her uncomfortable. Sasuke put her hand over Itachi’s, lowering them so that they were flat against the table. “Please, brother. I beg of you, end my suspense.”

“Your business here, as well as mine, is with the king,” Itachi said quietly. His voice held a reservation that Sasuke had never heard before. He did not want to be telling her this. “We are here to make him an offer.”

Sasuke withdrew her hand from Itachi’s. “Tell me that you are _not_ —” She couldn’t make herself go on. She could not breathe into the air the idea that Itachi would be offering her like some cow to such a fool of a man, and an even bigger embarrassment of a ruler. To stand at the side of such a pathetic king would only serve to bring down the reputation of the strong-willed Uchiha, and make Itachi look the fool. For Itachi to even be considering this was beyond betrayal in Sasuke’s mind. Betrayal of the family, for sure, but mostly betrayal of _her_ trust in him. They were so close, sometimes she allowed herself reprieve from the knowledge that he was her king. He’d never flexed his authority this intensely before, and Sasuke found that she quite hated it.

“It’s for the greater good of the realm, Sasuke. It wouldn’t be so bad, having Naruto as your husband,” Itachi said. 

“I refuse,” Sasuke said simply. She leveled Itachi with a strong and angry look. “I will _not_ be given away, sold like a common whore.”

“It is not a sale,” Itachi breathed in exasperation. “It is an offer of your hand in marriage, to unite the two factions of this fractured land once and for all. You are right, you are not a common whore. You are my sister, the princess of Uchiha. Your betrothal to Naruto would mean that we as a kingdom are one step closer to reinstituting the Senju, the Namikaze, and the Uzumaki, as well as all of their allies and bannermen, back to the side of Uchiha. Please,” Itachi begged, “be good? Do not spit on him, and do not speak out of turn? No swords. Can I please ask that of you? And put this on.” He produced a tiny tiara and pushed it in her direction.

Sasuke pushed her chair back and stood unceremoniously. “I will not promise a single thing to you, royal betrayer. You have chosen to embarrass me, blindside me with this, so I will make you no promises.” 

“There is no use in that,” Itachi said. His voice was reminiscent of Fugaku’s, now; harsh and final. He stood over Sasuke and she took a wary step back so that she may still look in his eyes. “You will stand before him, a princess before a _king,_ and you will behave. You will answer when he speaks to you, and not speak out of turn. If he wants to hold your hand, you will allow him to hold it. If he wants to speak with you in private, you will speak with him. You will do whatever you must do,” Itachi said, “in order to get him to accept this proposal. Agree to whatever you must. This will _not_ fail. Do you understand?” He slipped the tiara onto her head and adjusted it so that it would not fall. It took everything in her not to shiver or flinch away.

Sasuke’s eyes were on the hem of her deep purple, velvet dress. Of course she understood. If this Senju boy was going to want her, she would have to play the part. She would not live it down if Naruto rejected this offer on the grounds of Sasuke’s usual uncouth, rowdy, and disagreeable behavior, or if he rejected her at all. “I understand, Your Majesty,” Sasuke mumbled to her feet. 

“Good. Now wipe that look off of your face, and make your attitude presentable. I do hate to have to speak to you this way, but you live with impunity. You have always just been my sister. Now it is time for you to step into your role as the princess,” Itachi said. He knocked on the door to signal Jiraiya that they were finished with the room. “We hope to stand before the king at this time,” he told Jiraiya, who nodded wordlessly and beckoned them down a long hallway. Sasuke wanted so badly to stomp, or to yell, tear something up, throw her crown, _anything_ to express her anger, but she knew that Itachi could very well have her head for any such tantrums. He never would, but she’d still be in big trouble.

Doors nearly as grand as the main entrance to the keep were pushed open to reveal a sunny chamber with carpet running from the hall to the throne, where Naruto was waiting. The light of the sun was coming from high windows with ornate stonework around them. The windows themselves depicted some history of the Senju in faded colors, the earliest being the conquering of the land by Ashura and his brother, and the most recent history showing the union of Naruto’s grandparents Hashirama and Mito. Jiraiya climbed the two or three steps up to stand beside Naruto’s throne on the dais. The black and red chair was carved of wood native to this side of the kingdoms, and gave the effect of a tree growing from the stone with the way the feet were carved as roots, all the way up to the canopy behind Naruto’s head. The crown upon Naruto’s head was thin, silver, and had three jewels on the top. All circular in shape, there was a sapphire set in the middle of a ruby and what Sasuke thought was a black diamond, to represent the two grand halves of his heritage. Naruto sat nearly horizontally, with his legs hanging off of one end and his chin in the palm of his hand as his elbow rested on the arm of the grand chair. His face held an expression of general disinterest until he laid his eyes upon Sasuke. When he saw her, there was a spark of something that Sasuke decided she hated.

There were knights on either side of the aisle, each with a sheathed sword at his hip and a deep red cape at his back, just like Master Jiraiya. They wore simple armor; no one expected too much commotion in the throne room during what were usually mundane hearings. Still, they weren’t without mail and a few thinner plates of cerulean-colored armor on their chests and joints. At Naruto’s right sat his mother, wearing a small tiara to signify her position as queen mother. Jiraiya stood to Naruto’s left, his own sword’s hilt glinting in the colored light of the afternoon as it filtered through the glass from high above. Mikoto and Karin sat just a few feet from the dais in an area meant for those close to the family, lords and ladies, or others with higher status than a commoner.

Itachi strode before Naruto with his head high. He had opted to wear the less fancy of his own crowns, so as not to take away from Naruto’s regality in his own kingdom. Itachi bowed, and he nudged Sasuke with his elbow when she continued to stand straight. She hastily curtsied, and pinched herself beneath the folds of her dress. As much as she hated this, she didn’t want to get on this man’s bad side, not right now. She certainly did not have time to be the reason that there was strife between the two factions _again_. She pushed her own simple tiara back onto the crown of her head when it slipped out of place from her turning to face Itachi when he spoke.

“Your Highness, I stand before you with the hopes that you will hear and consider my offer,” Itachi said. Naruto raised an eyebrow and leaned forward so that he was sitting on the edge of his throne. 

“I am willing to hear this offer,” Naruto recited. Sasuke wondered how boring it must be, sitting before people and hearing them all plea for the same things over and over again with little variation. For just a moment, she took pity on Naruto for what he had inherited.

But only for a moment, because Itachi started talking again, and she remembered the reason why she was standing there, trying not to wither beneath Naruto’s gaze.

“I have come before you with my sister, the Princess Sasuke,” Itachi explained. At this, Sasuke curtsied again and took a step forward. 

“My fair king,” Sasuke said, improvising, “I hope to become your betrothed, so that we may forge a bond… a, uh, lasting peace to the land that is shared by our two families.” Itachi made a noise of approval behind Sasuke, and she felt a surge in her confidence. At least she was faking alright.

“This offer interests me so far. What do you have to offer besides your hand?” Naruto asked. Beside him, Kushina was watching Sasuke intensely. She wanted to shrink under the hot green gaze of Naruto’s mother, but her pride would not let her. 

Itachi came to stand beside Sasuke then. “We also make the offer of plenty of stock animals, as well as gold and a family heirloom, which may be discussed at a later date.” Mikoto looked away from Itachi in disdain for the words he said. Sasuke realized that Itachi must have already discussed this heinous plan with Mikoto, and she probably was not too thrilled that Itachi was willing to give away something from _her_ family. It was always _her_ family, unless a crime was being discussed. Then, it was the “family Uchiha,” and she was just another one of its members.

“We also have many allies among our bannermen that have not currently sworn any sort of fealty to you, and they may be swayed to fight on the side of the Senju if it means fighting on the side of the Uchiha,” Itachi added. Sasuke glanced at him before turning hopeful eyes up toward Naruto. She hated this and hated _him_ more, but for her own sake, she needed him to say yes. 

Sasuke could see through the serious look on Naruto’s face. There was absolutely no way he was going to say no, she could feel it. Still, she tried her best not to rock forward on the balls of her feet as she waited impatiently for Naruto to announce his decision. Naruto beckoned Sasuke closer to him with a flick of his wrist. “Approach, fair woman,” he said. Sasuke took careful steps up the dais to stand before Naruto. They hadn’t been in such proximity in a long time. Naruto’s eyes studied Sasuke carefully, as though he was really still trying to decide. Sasuke noticed that in Naruto’s sky-blue eyes there was also some green. She felt a strange and unwelcome pleasure at standing so close to Naruto and having his eyes on her and only her, despite the dozens of others in the room. Naruto took Sasuke’s pale hand and examined it. It took everything in her not to wrench herself free.

“I have decided that I will take your offer of betrothal to your lovely princess,” Naruto said loudly, causing all the common people in the room to clap. Mikoto and Kushina each held their own looks of discontent. Sasuke breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“However,” Naruto’s voice grew ever louder, and the applause ceased. Sasuke turned her head from Naruto to see Itachi frowning behind her. This wasn’t a part of his plan. She felt Naruto’s hand on the back of her neck, which caused her to jump in surprise and whip her head around to face him. 

“However?” She asked, blinking a few times. The serious look on Naruto’s face was real, this time. 

“However,” Naruto repeated, and this time he took a step closer to her. “There will have to be a… trial period, of sorts. For myself and my closest advisors to decide whether you are truly material fit for a queen.”

Sasuke fidgeted beneath the calluses of Naruto’s fingers. She worked hard not to squeak as she asked, “And who might that be?”

Naruto released her and took a step back. “My mother and my godfather, of course.” Jiraiya was the picture of warmth to Naruto’s left, a gentle smile playing on his face. It was only when Sasuke turned her eyes to Naruto’s right that she felt the venom coming from Kushina, and this all seemed a lot more difficult. Jiraiya already had a favorable opinion of her, so Sasuke was not worried about him. It was Kushina that Sasuke knew would be an uphill battle. She hoped that she could get her mother’s help with convincing Kushina to give her a chance. But then, she realized that meant asking Mikoto for _help_ , and she didn’t think she’d be doing that any time soon. She’d never live it down.

“Your… Highness,” Sasuke said slowly, “how do you propose this ‘trial’ occur?”

Naruto gave her a smug look that Sasuke wished to punch from his face. “For the summer, you will be here, with me. Spending time with myself and my family in close quarters. We will see how _domestic_ Your Rowdiness has become with age.” 

Sasuke feigned a laugh, when on the inside she could feel the fire in her veins sparking up. “You are too _funny_ ,” she ground out. 

Naruto adjusted the tiara on Sasuke’s head, which caused her to gasp faintly. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, princess,” he said, all silky smooth. Sasuke took a step back from him without meaning to. This was a different Naruto than the one she remembered.

“If there is nothing else,” Naruto said rather than acknowledging Sasuke, “I would have my betrothed shown to her chambers. She must be so exhausted after traveling across the border in this heat.” Sasuke tried not to run back down to her brother when she got the sense that she was being dismissed. Naruto announced something about the next hearing, and Jiraya came to their side once more.

“If you will follow me,” he said to Sasuke, “I will show you where you will be dwelling this season.” An entire summer, here in this _place_. So far from home, and having to be near Naruto. Talking to him, pretending to fall in love with him. Sasuke felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of all the things Naruto might try over these next months. 

Jiraiya led Sasuke out of the throne room. She turned when she felt that Itachi wasn’t following. “My king, aren’t you going to accompany me?”

Itachi shook his head. “No, my princess,” he said with a sigh. He closed the gap between them slowly and held her hands. “I am the king of another land,” he reminded her. “I cannot stay this period with you, it is much too risky for home. This was not in my plans, and you _know_ that I do not want to leave you, but I cannot stay.”

Sasuke’s eyes fell to the floor. Of course not. She should have anticipated that she would have to do this all alone. She looked back up at him with new hope. “Not even for tonight?” 

Itachi gave her a sad smile. “One night, to give our company rest. But we will probably be back on the road by the time you wake up.”

Despite his accedence, Sasuke felt an ache in her heart. She had never, _ever_ been away from Itachi. She didn’t know life without him. And though she was angry with him for plotting this without giving her any notice, she loved him dearly. More than life. Almost as much as she loved swords. She leaned heavily on him when he opened his arms to her, but she didn’t cry. People could see her. “Please, brother. Spend the afternoon with me, at least?”

Itachi sighed again. He looked to Jiraiya over Sasuke’s shoulder, so she couldn’t see the expression on the elder man’s face. “Alright,” Itachi said with a huff. “But should you fall asleep, I will leave you.”

With Itachi now in tow, Jiraiya led the two of them up endless flights of stairs. Sasuke had been up here in her youth, but never had these steps seemed so steep and winding before. She was huffing by the time they reached the top of a tower that overlooked a cape that the Senju controlled. It was beautiful, just as Sasuke recalled it. She sat at the window to see it better, and Itachi took a seat at a table across the room.

“You know that you cannot behave the ways that you usually do,” Itachi said when Jiraiya left them. Sasuke turned her head from the window long enough to give him a hard look. 

“I mean it, Sasuke. No back talk, no pranks, no _swords_.” At these last words Sasuke flew from her seat. 

“What should I be then, a tree? A stone? And you can not possibly expect me not to train with Master Jiraiya!” She exclaimed. Itachi rolled his eyes up to the cracked ceiling. 

“That is exactly what I expect. Do you know what people will say about you if they find out that you still play with blades, as a grown woman?” 

“Do you know that I don’t _care_?” Sasuke shot back. “He can not offer me any instruction in magic, that much is certain. And anyway, I like swords. I brought swords, I will continue to train with swords.” She put her hands on her hips in defiance.

“You brought swords? Sasuke.” Itachi made an exasperated sound. “A king such as Naruto will not—”

“I brought a dagger or two,” Sasuke said. “A _boy_ such as Naruto will do well to not attempt to tell me what to do or how to comport myself.” She kicked her shoes across the room and flopped down onto the bed. “I will go insane here,” she decided.

“Not if you think of the benefit you will do to your kingdom, to your family,” Itachi said. Sasuke sat up on her elbows and raised her eyebrow at him. “The benefit you will do to _me_ ,” he said finally. Sasuke grunted and let herself fall flat onto the bed again.

“I cannot stand it here, already. To have to grovel at the feet of Naruto is one thing. His _mother_ is an entirely different beast.” Sasuke closed her eyes and ran a hand over her face. To put it lightly, she hated Senju Kushina, and it was a sentiment that had been festering between the two of them for years.

“You know that boy does anything she says,” Itachi pointed out. Sasuke could think of _two_ boys who did anything their mothers said, but she remained silent for once. “The key to him is in her. So for everyone’s sake, please do not act on your feelings towards her.”

“Only if she does not act upon hers for me,” Sasuke said decidedly. It was all so stupid, and annoying. She was exhausted, but she didn’t watch Itachi to leave. She didn’t know when she would see him again. How could he leave her here? How could they _keep_ her here?

It seemed that Itachi had read her earlier thoughts. “I will visit you every once in a while, to see how you are feeling. I know that you will miss me dearly.” 

Sasuke’s eyes flew open and she sat up again, this time all the way. “I can’t believe that you’re leaving me,” she said in a small voice. “The only solace in this entire situation is that I will be away from Mother.”

“This _trial_ that he suggested wasn’t in my plans at all,” Itachi said. “But, Sasuke, please. Don’t be like that,” Itachi begged. “You’re going to miss her, too. Just you watch.”

“I hate to disagree, Your _Highness,_ but I will not miss that wine-swilling, attention-seeking fabricator.” Sasuke stood and crossed the room to where Itachi sat. “I will only miss you,” she whispered. Suddenly, there was a lump in her throat again, and she felt weak. Itachi caught her when she fell forward. She didn’t understand how he could be so calm, when this was the worst day of her life. She had never _been_ more devastated.

“Don’t think about it too much,” he implored her, though his tone told her that he knew it was impossible. “Write me, sometimes. Just be careful with the things you say, because your letters may be intercepted.”

Sasuke sobbed. “If I must be so careful, then what is even the point of writing you?” she wailed. “And what if they try to kill me? What if he tries to _touch_ me?” Itachi didn’t answer and instead just held her head to his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead when she pulled away from him to draw in a deep breath.

“I must leave you soon, my sweetheart,” Itachi mumbled to her. Sasuke shook her head fast.

“No, no, _please_ ,” she begged, her voice running ragged from her crying. When she gripped him, he stopped trying to stand. “Itachi, I’m _scared_ ,” Sasuke admitted. “I’ve been with you since the first day of my life. What will I do now that you aren’t watching over me? I don’t _like_ it here, I don’t like anyone here. They’re all so… ruddy, so _tan_ , and loud. Hate his mother and I hate him. His father was _magicless_. I won’t be able to stand it. I’ll throw myself from this window, surely it will kill me.”

“ _Sasuke_.” Itachi’s voice made Sasuke shrink. It was that one he’d used earlier, to evoke obedience from her. It was the same voice their father used to speak to them regularly. A shiver went up her spine at the sound of it, and at the memory of Fugaku. 

“You must stop whining and crying. Naruto is a good man, and he will protect you. You are all the way up here, at the very end of this hallway. Before anyone gets to you, they must go through a slew of guards _and_ him. You will not die here, by murder or otherwise.” Itachi held Sasuke’s shoulders tight, grounding her to reality once again. She wiped at her eyes with hot embarrassment. It was not like her to cry so much just because she didn’t get her way. But it wasn’t that, not really. It was the knowledge that she was going to have to do this alone.

“I apologize, brother. Your Highness,” she corrected herself. She willed Itachi to stay longer, just for a few more minutes, but there was nothing she could say to make him stay, she knew. Just as fast as his stern and harsh tone had come, it disappeared and was once again replaced with something soft. Itachi bid her a sorrowful farewell, and Sasuke was left all alone in that big room with only her thoughts and the smells and sounds of the water outside her window to keep her company.

After her things were brought up to the chamber (most of which she had not even noticed had been packed up on horses far behind her during the trip to this country), she dug into the folds of her dress and produced a small dagger. At least she could have this, one of her prized possessions. It had been Madara’s, many years ago. Sasuke liked to look at the black sapphires set into the handle, and she liked the way they felt beneath her fingers and her palm whenever she held it. The blade was that of volcanic glass, the sharpest and deadliest substance known to mankind. It had been forged with some of the most powerful fire magics that the Uchiha had had in ancient times. She liked to imagine her grandmother wielding it, striking fear in the hearts of men with a blade no longer than 4 inches. She placed it carefully under her pillow and redressed in night clothes, though the sun was just barely sliding beneath the horizon. She didn’t want to come out of this room for the rest of the day, and maybe not even tomorrow. She fell onto her grand mattress in a heap. She felt like she had just barely dragged the covers over her head when she heard a creaking in the hallway, right outside her door. 

Sasuke sat up fast and reached her hand underneath her pillow, curling her fingers around the handle of her dagger. She saw shadows moving beneath the door. Sasuke crept from the bed to the side of the door that would shield her when it was opened. Whoever this was, she thought that she would only have one chance to immobilize them. This tower was high and nearly empty. The only other people up here were… Naruto, Kushina, and Karin. Sasuke realized what was happening just as the door creaked open. 

There stood Naruto, also wearing night clothes, holding a candle to light his way. There was surprise on his face to see Sasuke standing in front of him, brandishing her weapon so close to his face that it reflected the terror in his eyes back up at him. 

“Whatever you might think you’re doing, stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would like to note right now, early on, that since these parts will be POV, some will be shorter than others. This is simply because that’s the style i’m going for. i would also like to say that the story will take some darker turns later, but of course there will be ample warnings before the chapter begins. again, i hope you all enjoyed, and tell me what you think!


	3. Foolish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requirement #6 fulfilled:  
> honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is relatively light as well, but there is the slightest bit of homophobia, which i do not actually advocate in real life!!! i hope you all enjoy
> 
> foolish - ashanti

**_Kushina_ **

Words could not describe the feeling that was coursing through Kushina’s veins, but she tried. It was white hot, delicious, _dangerous_ , intense.

It had started slowly, from the moment she had learned that the Uchiha would make the journey over the border. In a chamber on the lower floors, close to the ravenry, Naruto was reading Itachi’s letter out loud. He was having trouble. Kushina thought that maybe she’d have to secretly install him some tutors again for the way he was mixing up his letters. It was a problem he’d had his entire life, but she thought that after his most recent round of help that it had finally gone away. She sat across from him at a table and listened patiently as he read the very best he could.

“And so, Naruto,” he was reading slowly, “I bo… no, _do_ , hope that you will oonsider my offer. Oonsider?” Naruto laid the final page of the letter down. He slid it across the table and looked to his mother for help. 

Kushina accepted the paper and ran a finger over a few lines to find where Naruto had been reading. “Consider,” she supplied after a moment.

Naruto raised his eyebrows high. “Oh, of course!” He nodded to himself, before his mind turned back to the contents of the letter. “Consider. He wants me to consider marrying his sister? _Sasuke_?”

“It would seem so,” Kushina said with a sigh.

“She’s just like a boy,” Naruto said. “She plays in the dirt, and in the water, with the dogs, with bows, _swords_.” He shook his head. “How can someone with so little couth even think to be considered to stand at my side?”

“She did those things when she was a girl,” Kushina pointed out.

“Well, yes, but…” Naruto huffed. He was at a loss for words. It was always his first instinct to complain, but there wasn’t any logical reason presenting itself right now. 

“And anyway,” Kushina continued in Naruto’s silence, “it’s politics, Naruto. It’s simple. It’s a deal a merchant would make. It is for money, security, _gossip_. They want someone to talk about them. As if their name hasn’t passed enough lips already.” She said the last part under her breath and shook her head. “So tell me what it means, son.” Along with his slow reading, she had noticed that sometimes he read just fine, but didn’t _understand_ a single word he’d read. She’d been hiding it from the public by being the one to read things for him when he must address large masses of people sometimes if Jiraiya wasn’t available.

“It means… Itachi will bring Sasuke over, to make a formal offer,” Naruto said carefully. “A formal offer would be for her hand, and for whatever else he might deem fit to go along with her.” 

Kushina nodded. She stood from her seat and went to Naruto’s side of the table, where she leaned over his shoulders and kissed his head. “So smart,” she mumbled into his hair. She was relieved.

“Mother, _please_ ,” Naruto complained, but he made no moves to stop her. His attention was still focused on the news of visitors. “Sasuke is coming here? I haven’t seen her in _years_.”

Kushina flared her nostrils at the thought of her, the _child_. She had a deep-set distaste for Princess Uchiha Sasuke that was rooted in one thing: she wasn’t meant to exist. 

But the longer Kushina thought about it, and the more Naruto rambled on, the more she began to feel warm, giddy. She stood suddenly and moved across the room as though she were floating. After pouring herself a tall drink, she turned to face her son once more and looked at him over the rim of the cup.

“What’s got that look on your face?” Naruto asked with great suspicion on his features. He looked so much like his father when he made that face. He’d made it at her and asked the same question dozens upon dozens of times.

Kushina shrugged lightly. “Nothing that you should worry your mind about.” She took a sip of her wine.

“It’s not even midday, Mother,” Naruto said, raising an eyebrow. “A woman your age should slow down.”

“And a boy your age should not criticize his one and only mother,” Kushina shot back. “You need to go and tell Jiraiya, so he can set everything up accordingly,” Kushina said, as a way of dismissing her son.

“Fine,” Naruto said. He muttered something under his breath about _spirits_ but Kushina pretended not to hear him. When he left her, the feeling that had been thrumming low in her veins suddenly burst forth, and it had nothing to do with her drink. She was laughing into the empty room, she could _sing_. Her heart was beating wildly with the excitement of a girl sneaking to meet her lover.

Yes, the awful Itachi was coming, and dragging his scum sister along with him. But they could not come alone. 

_Mikoto_ was coming, too.

  
  


The feeling only got stronger as the days wore into weeks. Every morning, Master Jiraiya seemed to have new information pertaining to the visitors. They would come, stand before Naruto, and make their offer. He was inclined and advised to accept. And then, after that, they would spend the whole day and a night in the palace before making the journey back to their own country. Kushina hid her excitement by remaining mostly silent during these briefings unless absolutely necessary. Her mind was running so fast that she could barely string together one thought to form a sentence, anyway. There were so many things she wanted to do with Mikoto in the city. They would go shopping, and she would take her to see a show, and then they could spend time at one of the little pubs closer to the palace, one of the fancier ones. And then, Kushina thought, they could come back _here_ , and retire to her room. Of course, Mikoto would be designated her own space, but when they were sure the coast was clear, the real fun could begin.

Kushina’s mind was elsewhere the entire time that Jiraiya and the other advisors on Naruto’s council prattled on about the accommodations for the visitors. She didn’t care about them at all; their guards, Itachi, _Sasuke_. She cared only to see Mikoto again. Someone at the other end of the room cleared their throat, and Kushina realized that all eyes were on her. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, do you suppose a chamber near yours would suit the royal party for the night?” Jiraiya asked.

“Oh, yes. Yes, that should be adequate.” She nodded absently. The closer, the better. 

“And will guards be required outside overnight? It has been so long since the Uchiha have crossed the border, who knows what they may be planning?” one of the councilmen said. There was a gentle murmur of agreement, but the room suddenly struck completely silent when Kushina slammed her cup down so hard on the stone table that some of its contents sloshed out. She stood so fast that her chair screeched loud against the floor, causing some of the people in the room to wince.

“They will not be _planning_ anything but allowing that wench princess to do her family some good, and bring our allies to their side.” Kushina’s eyes roamed the room, seeking a challenge. “Or does anyone have a different set of mind?”

A young man no older than Naruto tried to speak up, but he was flustered. His voice shook as he attempted to explain himself. “N-no, my lady—”

“That is my _queen_ to you.” Karin’s voice jarred Kushina enough to make her turn her head. She had nearly forgotten her sister had attended this particular meeting, and she suddenly wondered if she had been present at any of the other ones.

“Yes,” Kushina said. “That’s right.” Kushina sat again and held her cup aloft. “Someone come and fill this to the top.” She waited for her goblet to return to her with her hand still held poised in the air. She didn’t continue speaking until her wine had been returned to her. “The Uchiha are not to be treated as enemies when they are here to create peace. There will be no reason for them to leave with a bad taste in their mouths. At this current juncture, their military strength outdoes ours by hundreds. Should they launch an attack, it will mean war, and we as a kingdom cannot sustain that for more than two or three weeks. They have months’ worth of strength. I will hear nothing else about _plots_ and _plans_. Is this understood?”

There was not even a mumble of dissent, this time around. Naruto was the only person in the room who didn’t have fear in his eyes. “That will quite do, Mother,” he said with annoyance. 

“Naruto,” Karin said, “have more respect in the face of others.” 

Turning to Jiraiya and ignoring his aunt completely, Naruto asked, “Is there any other new information that I must be made aware of?”

Jiraiya shifted hastily through some of his notes, before landing on something he’d jotted down. “Though we welcome the Uchiha with open arms and minds,” he cut his eyes to Kushina, whose own were glaring at him, “we must take into careful consideration that this may be a ploy to learn the secrets of our country. The relationship between the king and the princess of Uchiha cannot be described with words. They are still nearly inseparable. It would be hard to imagine that if they were not attempting to install a high ranking spy, that they would not choose her. She would tell her brother anything.”

“Right, so? What is it that you propose?” Naruto asked impatiently. Kushina could see his fingertips tapping the table rapidly. His fidgeting mirrored the way that she felt on the inside. She was loath to sit here for two more minutes with these fools and talk about Sasuke.

“If you would let me lay it out, Your Highness,” Jiraiya said quickly. “Based on this, and the fact that you have not spent extended time around Her Highness since you were but a boy, I suggest that you take some time to… feel her out.” 

Kushina raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. She wanted to see if Naruto would have a competent reply. “I should find a way to keep her around me, without letting her come too close to the inner workings of the kingdom,” Naruto said, scratching his chin. Kushina smiled into her cup. He was _finally_ beginning to show signs of true leadership and the ability to read between the lines, after having been rather rash in his decision-making for many years because he took everything literally.

“Precisely,” Jiraiya said with a nod. He sounded relieved, too. “I do not know how you could propose this to her. That, I will leave up to you. I’m sure that you can find a better way to convince her than I could suggest.” After knocking his papers on the table to straighten them, Jiraiya rolled them up and stood. Naruto and Kushina followed him out of their chairs, and he bowed to each of them. “That is all from me. We will continue our convention at this moment, but Your Highnesses are free to go. You too, Lady Karin.” Kushina heard a ‘hmph’ behind her before the loud scraping of a chair against the stone as Karin stood to leave, too.

Naruto waited until they were all safely in his chambers to question her. “Mother?” If he had learned anything at all from her, it was not to betray his family. It was the only family he had, and he would do well in life to remember it.

“Yes, my king?” Kushina asked. She was lounging on a blue velvet chaise in Naruto’s room, one of many. His chambers were a lot more airy than others, because it helped him think. Most everything in the room was white, though there were some blues and golds here and there as accents. Naruto was sitting in front of a reflective pane, combing his hair to the front with a comb that Mito had gifted to him a long time ago.

“Stop that,” Karin scolded, sitting up just slightly from where she was pouring over some papers at a table. “You know that I hate it when you fuss with your hair.”

Naruto set his comb down on the floor next to him. “Apologies,” he said. He turned to face Kushina, still sitting cross legged on the floor. “Why do you trust the Uchiha so much? Grandmother hated them deeply. She wanted to see them _destroyed_ , and now you have no qualms inviting them to our country, into our home? How do you know they won’t be plotting something against you or me? Or Lady Karin,” Naruto added, when he heard a growl come from his aunt. He gave her a sheepish look. “I didn’t forget you.”

Kushina swirled some of her long, red hair between her fingers. “It isn’t that I trust them,” she said after a while. “I know full well how your grandmother felt about them, and I echo this sentiment. She only wanted to see them destroyed because they started it. That _Madara_ —” Kushina cut herself off and shook her head fast. “It is not that I trust them in the slightest. It’s just that if we want the deal to go _our_ way, our best course of action is to make it seem like it was their idea.”

Naruto scratched his head and pushed his hair back out of his face. “But… it was their idea?” 

At his left, Karin made a face at Naruto. “The visit is their idea. Bringing Sasuke and offering her hand is their idea. But those are things that benefit _them._ They do those things with themselves in mind.”

Naruto hummed, closed his eyes, and shook his head to signal that he still hadn’t grasped what they were trying to tell him.

Kushina sighed deeply. “We want _our_ best outcome to seem like their idea.” She saw Karin roll her eyes hard out of her peripheral vision when Naruto exclaimed that he understood.

“I see, I see.” Naruto nodded to himself, as though he’d known it all along. “And do you have any ideas as to how I can learn more about her without her learning too much about me?”

Kushina looked to her sister. She could tell by Karin’s expression that she had already devised a plan. It brought a smile to her face. “My lady.” The curiosity in Kushina’s tone was fake. “You do seem to have something in mind. Will you enlighten us? Oh, please?” She put her hands together as though she were begging. 

Karin checked her fingernails before returning Kushina’s wicked grin. “It’s quite simple, my sister, my nephew.” She nodded to each of them in turn. “Tell her that you’re just not quite sure how much of a _wife_ she is. Oh, no, even better. How much of a _queen_. Tell her that you’re going to need some time to see her in action.”

Naruto seemed to finally be connecting the dots. This made Kushina the most proud of all. She felt pride swelling in her chest as he spoke. Mito would have praised her for this.

“I will accept the offer,” Naruto decided, “ _But_ , I’ll tell her that she needs to stay here, for… a month? Two months?”

“The entire summer. Hers and her brother’s birth dates are over the summer. If anything, if she is a spy, being away from home for that long and during something so important should drive her mad enough to crack,” Kushina provided. “And maybe you won’t actually like her. You still have a choice in it, my son.” She tried to keep the hope from her voice as she said it. She wished so deeply for Naruto to not like Sasuke.

Naruto nodded. “The summer. To see how much she’s changed from the girl who used to roll around in the mud and swing swords at me.”

Kushina could have kissed him in that moment. He really _was_ her son, and not just Minato’s. He was so nice to the masses and to servants, sometimes Kushina worried that he would never develop the cunning that she and her sister had inherited from their mother, that he would always be so nice and warm as Minato. Mito had always said to them, when she was lacing up their underclothes, or sitting with them as they bathed, or helping them put clips in their hair: “Every rose has its thorns. An Uzumaki must be so beautiful, so striking, that by the time your enemy notices your thorns, they’re already bleeding.” 

“But, Mother,” Karin had asked once, squinting in Mito’s direction, “we are not Uzumaki. We are Senju, like Father.”

Mito swooped down upon Karin and grasped her shoulders tight. She came so fast that both Karin and Kushina had gasped. Kushina had stood transfixed, her hair half-brushed, as her mother pinched her sister’s cheek. “What’s in a name?” Mito asked. Karin’s eyebrows drew together. She did not understand. Mito sighed and motioned for Kushina to come close. She gathered up both of her children and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “An Uzumaki by another name would use her thorns the same.”

  
  


The feeling grew nearly unbearable when Kushina actually laid her eyes upon Mikoto. It had been an age since she had seen her friend, and though it came at the price of seeing her friend’s _children_ , it was well worth it. When Kushina saw Mikoto and her family standing there, she felt that she could fall over. White hot, dangerous. Putting her fingertips on Mikoto’s face after so long made Kushina feel light. She had almost allowed herself to think that, after so long, her feelings would have faded. It was hard to feel this way. It _hurt_ to feel this way. She had _hoped_ that it would have gone away by now.

How terribly wrong she was. “I cannot wait to take you about,” Kushina whispered to Mikoto. They were in the throne room, awaiting Sasuke and her brother. There was something tugging at her heart, telling her to tell Mikoto something, but she ignored it. Must have been her morality. It just meant she hadn’t had enough to drink.

“Take me where? It’s so _hot_ out there. Surely we will be inside at least some of the time?” Mikoto asked hopefully. She was trying to pretend as though she wasn’t interested, but Kushina could tell that there was some intrigue still there in Mikoto’s eyes.

“A few places I have in mind. It’s been a while since you’ve been to the city, I want to show you the things you’ve missed,” Kushina said. It was not lost on her the way that Mikoto’s eyelashes fluttered so delicately, or the dusting of pink across her cheeks. 

“If you say so,” Mikoto conceded, just like Kushina knew that she would. 

The hearings for the day lasted so much longer than Kushina could bear. She hated Sasuke more and more, every second she stood before Naruto and spoke. At the very least, the look on her face told Kushina that she knew better than to refuse. It was _delicious_ to watch the shock set in Sasuke’s features when Naruto suggested his trial, but even better when she turned her eyes to Itachi. Catching them off guard gave the Senju more power before the agreement had even been settled. She watched with deep unhappiness as Mikoto was carted off to her chambers so that she might get acquainted with them. It was already the afternoon, and there were still _so many_ common people in the room, waiting to have their time with Naruto.

The rest of the hearings were just as boring as they always were. Kushina had heard these words millions of times now, since she was small. She had seen her mother and father sit and listen to the woes of the peasants. Then, when she and Minato ruled together, at the very least, he was the one answering the questions and doling out the sentences. When he’d died in the war, it was all up to her until their son grew old enough to sit the chair himself. But she had never escaped having to _listen_ , no matter her position. Her head was nodding by the time the final commoner had been led out of the room. 

Naruto clapped his hands together, causing Kushina to jump. “It is finally over,” he announced to his mother and her sister. “We are _free_.” He said the same thing nearly every day, but it never ceased to bring a smile to Kushina’s face. 

“Finally,” Karin whined. She stood and stretched. Kushina heard some of her joints pop. “I will be in my quarters should anyone need me. And no one had better need me,” she added, with a sharp look thrown around the whole room.

Kushina said no words as she left the throne room. She thought that maybe, if she didn’t act too excited, no one would catch on to her plan. But she should have known better. Karin’s hand caught Kushina’s elbow as soon as she passed through the grand doors, and Kushina felt herself being wrenched out into the hallway roughly. 

Kushina could not hide the shock from her face. “What is this all about? I thought that you were tired.”

Karin looked about them a few times before pulling Kushina into a side room. “I know that you have plans for Mikoto,” Karin said, with judgement evident in her eyes and tone. Kushina tugged herself free and shook her head.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Kushina shot back defiantly. On the inside, she was panicking. Would she ever be able to keep anything from this sleuthing younger sister of hers?

Karin rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You could not keep your eyes or your hands off of her the moment she set foot before you, and I know the real reason you were so adamant that there be minimal security. You do not trust Itachi or his sister. It is just their mother that you are after.”

Kushina hated her so very much. “So, what? She is my best and oldest friend, that’s all.”

Karin scoffed. “Don’t think that just because you are ages older than me, that I am a fool.” She allowed Kushina to take a step back from her, but the hardness of her eyes didn’t falter.

“Whatever do you mean?” Kushina got the feeling that she did not really want to know the answer to this question. She crossed her arms.

“You are in love with that woman,” Karin said simply. 

“I am _not_ ,” Kushina retorted, but her voice cracked. It was impossible. The _feeling_ was welling up inside of her, so hot and fiery that she felt she might melt from the inside out. 

“Oh, you’re not?” Karin asked with a raised eyebrow. “Then what is the real reason that you hate Sasuke so much, and yet do not share the same sentiment about Itachi? What is the real reason that you rejoiced when Fugaku died? What is the real reason that you were so _glad_ to learn that the Uchiha would be coming?” She mimicked Kushina’s stance by crossing her own arms, but her body held a confidence that Kushina’s lacked. There was no lying to her, but Kushina would never admit it.

Kushina’s shoulders sagged. “I missed her,” she said defensively. She would rather die than concede to her sister. “That is all. I have not seen her in a very long time. I want to spend time with her before she leaves again. Is that alright with you, _my lady_?”

“I cannot stop you.” Karin shrugged. “But you should do well to be careful with that viper. You know that Uchiha are poison to our line. It’s written in the stars, in history. In our own family. She will be the death of you.”

Kushina glared at her sister and flared her nostrils. “I’ll hear no more from you.” She cast her eyes to the nearest window. The sun was nearly halfway past the horizon by now. “You’ve ruined everything for me, just like you always do,” she said. 

“Oh, a pity,” Karin mocked. “How so?”

“I wanted to take her out, spend a real day with her,” Kushina said. She didn’t even know why she was explaining herself to Karin. She was composed of only judgement and hatred. Usually, it was not a problem, because it was being directed at someone that Kushina also hated. But it became a _huge_ problem when it was directed at her.

“You wanted to _court_ her,” Karin snorted. “Folly. An old woman like you should know better by now. Such a lifestyle is unacceptable.”

“I will hear no more from you,” Kushina repeated, harsher this time. “I do not need a lecture from my child sister about my _lifestyle_.”

“Just be forewarned. When, and not if, the people find out about your… perversion, you will be a laughingstock. Not only that, but you will bring the greatest disgrace to our family since Ashura gave the larger portion of the land they conquered _together_ to Indra.” Kushina did not have a reply for her sister’s vitriol.

She grumbled to herself the entire way up the stairs to the tower where she slept. How _dare_ her sister decide to try to insult her? She did not _love_ the Uchiha woman. Those words did not belong in the same sentence together. She was simply a friend. A long-standing, trustworthy friend that Kushina could not imagine her life without. The things they’d done in the past that crossed the line of friendship were the past, and they had been much younger. Foolish. They each had a lot more sense than to lust over one another now, heart and flesh. That is what she told herself again and again, with every step she ascended. 

Kushina nodded to the guards at the top of the stairs before entering the landing. She glared in the direction of Sasuke’s room, at the end of the long hallway. Having her in such close proximity, it would be so _easy_. But Kushina shook her head and scolded herself. She knew better. She would be tried and convicted before a day had passed. There was no real reason, anyway. Sasuke wasn’t a real threat to anything except Kushina’s day-to-day sanity.

Upon entering her own chambers, Kushina’s jaw dropped nearly to the floor. 

“You kept me waiting. What happened to the time, to the day we were meant to spend?” It was Mikoto. She was standing across the room, with her hand on the window. Her back was to Kushina when she spoke, but then she turned her head to look over her shoulder. Her hair was still braided up, though even from afar Kushina could see that some strands were out of place. Mikoto’s eyes were dark and full of longing.

“How did you get here? When? I…” It was rare that Kushina was at a loss for words. But Mikoto had always had that effect on her. Her hands were shaking as she deposited her tiara on her vanity. When she turned around, she could do nothing but watch helplessly as Mikoto slunk across the room from the window. Kushina sucked in a sharp breath and her eyelids fluttered when she felt Mikoto’s fingertips tracing her jaw.

“Do you know how I missed you?” Mikoto’s voice was just barely audible, even when they were so close together.

“I have some idea,” Kushina replied shyly.

“You have _no_ idea,” Mikoto said. Her voice was final; she had decided it. Kushina did not argue. Mikoto’s hand left Kushina’s face in a flourish, and suddenly her words came back to her. 

“You act as though you did not flee from me. You also did not answer my question,” Kushina said, her voice a bit more sly now. “How did you get in here? And when? You’re a visitor. Visitors don’t belong up here.”

Mikoto raised an eyebrow at Kushina’s sudden flare in confidence. She put her fingers to her temple in thought. “Well, I was going to say goodnight to my daughter,” Mikoto said, “but I passed this door first.” She shrugged. Her tone was light, but there was something dangerous in her eyes that Kushina couldn’t resist. Here it was, the _feeling_ that had been plaguing her for weeks now, suddenly exploding from her, and though the name of it was most definitely passing across the front of her mind, she was actively shoving it to the back. Just friends, just friends, she told herself futilely.

Kushina’s body moved on its own. Her hands came up to Mikoto’s hair, where she began carefully plucking out her hair clips. “You came to see me instead of your daughter? Someone might think you would go to see her.” Kushina clutched Mikoto’s clips tightly in a fist. 

Mikoto shrugged. “I live with her,” she said. “Brought her into this world through pain and blood. I think it’s easy to imagine how I might be sick of her.” Kushina reached behind herself to place Mikoto’s hairpins down onto the vanity next to her tiara. She got a leg between Mikoto’s thighs, and she felt a shiver run up Mikoto’s spine from where her knee brushed Mikoto’s core. It would have been easy to push Mikoto backwards, but Kushina made a dance of it. She swayed Mikoto back and forth, until eventually the back of Mikoto’s knees hit her mattress. “I forgot how extravagantly you live,” Mikoto remarked. Her eyes trailed around the room for a moment over Kushina’s shoulders. “But things are a little different.”

Kushina’s room was a lot more grand than the one that had been delegated for Sasuke to reside in for the time being, until more permanent quarters could be arranged. Despite the fact that she was queen regnant at the time, the room had been decorated with herself _and_ Minato in mind. She hadn’t ever ruled without him, at that time. Before, there had been combinations of blues and reds on the seats, the rugs, and trinkets on the fireplace mantel. The tapestries had shown the small amount of notable history that the Namikaze had: when Minato’s uncle had fought the fire that Mikoto’s mother had set. Blue curtains at the windows, red cloths at the table on the far end of the room, as well as the ones on either side of the bed. Her bed had alternating blue and red pillows, with deep red blankets and a thin blue covering over the canopy that shrouded the whole room with a look of mist when the morning sun hit it. 

Now, things were different. Twenty years had passed since Minato was gone, and the room had changed greatly in that time. During her tenure as queen regent, she had nothing but the finest things. The blues in her room had been replaced with gold. Being the only daughter of Senju Hashirama still held incredible weight, and she’d used it to her advantage whenever she wanted something, wherever she went. There had been golden chairs; gilded goblets and trays for when she had visitors; gold strings twined into the rugs on the floor; golden clips for her hair; a _gold_ crown instead of a silver tiara. And then, Naruto had turned 16, and the gold had been replaced with earth tones that Kushina made no secret about hating. The only gold that remained in her room was around the frame of her portrait, above the fireplace. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, with a look on her face so akin to her mother that Minato had been afraid to look at it, sometimes. A strange pain came to Kushina’s chest when she thought of her late husband, but it was dispelled when she felt Mikoto gripping her by the arms and pulling her down onto the bed.

“You know very well that a lot of things are different now,” Kushina said. Mikoto wiggled herself free from beneath Kushina, and then rolled over on the bed. She was in nothing but a satin nightgown the color of plums; Kushina could tell by the way her body moved that there was nothing underneath it.

“You’re overdressed,” Mikoto said, rather than giving a reply to Kushina’s statement. She sat up and tousled her hair a bit, to keep it from falling into her face. She looked a lot like her mother when she let her hair sit like that. Kushina hadn’t seen Mikoto’s expression so _youthful_ in so long.

“I’m perfectly dressed,” Kushina argued. “We still have to go to dinner later, or have you forgotten?” Kushina sat up, too. She anticipated Mikoto’s touch this time. She kept herself steady as Mitoko reached around to unclasp the simple ruby necklace that adorned her throat. She heard it tinkle as it was laid carefully on the bedside table. Next came the tie holding Kushina’s hair in its position as a high bun. With one flick of her wrist, Mikoto had released Kushina’s red tresses, and her hair fell to her shoulders. Mikoto’s fingers twisted into Kushina’s hair gently, and then a yelp was drawn from Kushina’s throat when she felt Mikoto’s grip turn fierce. 

“Dinner? _Please_.” Mikoto shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Always trying to tease me.” Mikoto ran her free thumb over the seam of Kushina’s lips, and Kushina parted them easily to let Mikoto in. “So beautiful, _gorgeous_ , and you make me wait for you for hours on end. For years, you make me wait to touch you.” Kushina would have liked to defend herself in that moment, but Mikoto’s thumb was pushed past her teeth at that point. “And you promise me such a wonderful time, only to reduce me to some chamber wench. Is that what I am to you, a slut to keep waiting?”

Kushina shook her head fast. Just like that, Mikoto released her completely, and moved back a bit to give Kushina space. “Take off the rest,” Mikoto said with a wave of her hand, dismissing Kushina from her own bed. “Go on.”

A rush of fire ran into Kushina’s veins as she stood, though her magic was wind. Surely they wouldn’t go too far before someone summoned them for dinner. She just hoped that no one was waiting for them. Kushina felt Mikoto’s eyes on her the entire time she struggled to untie the strings keeping her dress upon her body. She let the bodice, red and trimmed with a deep green that brought out the color of her eyes, fall to the floor. Mikoto’s eyes never left Kushina’s body as she continued to unlace herself from the confines of her clothes. She shivered lightly when her bare skin came in contact with the air. The hairs on her arms were raising, though it had nothing to do with the feeling of the air, and everything to do with Mikoto’s gaze upon her. She was inspecting Kushina from afar, but Kushina did not fidget. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was her body.

Eventually, Mikoto seemed to have had enough of looking. She crawled from the middle of Kushina’s bed to the edge, at the foot where she could wrap an arm around one of the posts holding up the thin canopy. It was shorter than the blue one before it, and it was green. One of the straps of Mikoto’s tiny little slip was falling off of her shoulder, but she left it there. Kushina could see the jut of Mikoto’s hips from her thin waist. She was sitting on her knees, waiting with wild eyes for Kushina to come close. “Well, woman? Do you mean to stand and blind me? Come _here_.”

Everything in Kushina’s mind was telling her that this was the opposite of what she should be doing. She knew that with each step, she was weakening whatever argument she’d been having with herself. She couldn’t let the logical part of her mind win. But then Mikoto’s slender fingers wrapped around Kushina’s wrist, and she admitted to herself that maybe they were more than friends. Mikoto’s hands were careful as they pried Kushina’s thighs apart, and Kushina admitted to herself that maybe they were lovers. Mikoto’s fingertip slid across the very spot that Kushina had been aching for a touch, and as she gasped, she admitted to herself that maybe she was in love with this woman. 

This was the moment that Kushina tried to describe the feeling inside of her. White hot. Delicious. Dangerous. Intense. Something visceral, something that she hadn’t felt in nearly 6 years. It was impossible to think with the way that Mikoto was handling her. She knew just the things to do with her hands, her _mouth_. Kushina had forgotten that a pleasure so deep could exist. It had only ever been drawn from her by Mikoto.

Kushina’s fists were grasping desperately at the sheets, but Mikoto never stopped. Every once in a while, she would sit up slightly and move her hair from her face. Sometimes, she would give Kushina the smallest of glances, and she seemed almost _embarrassed_ at what she was doing. There was a flush on her face, and her eyes were big. She searched Kushina’s face for approval sometimes, but _every_ time, she would run her hand from between Kushina’s legs all the way up to her stomach, and then she would put her head down again. Kushina tried so _hard_ to remain as quiet as possible as she moved one of her hands to grip Mikoto’s wild hair. It wasn’t about Sasuke or Karin, it was the fact that her _son_ was up here, and he had never had a penchant for knocking on doors. She would never live it down if he came in here at this very moment and saw what was going on. 

Mikoto lifted her head, breathed in deep, and moved her face to the side without warning. “Tell me,” Mikoto mumbled against the soft skin of Kushina’s thigh.

“Tell you what?” Kushina sat up on her elbows to watch as Mikoto pushed her leg up until it bent at the knee. She had no clue what nature of thoughts might have been moving around in Mikoto’s mind by the look on her face. It was one thing that Mikoto had always been better at, hiding her emotions and inner thoughts. Kushina had always been helpless to figuring out what Mikoto was up to.

“Tell me…” Mikoto removed herself from Kushina completely. Kushina breathed a frustrated sigh that broke off into a gasp when she felt the weight of Mikoto’s body coming to lie on top of her own. The hem of Mikoto’s tiny night dress scratched the place where Kushina’s thighs met, and she shivered. Her hands were quaking as they came to Mikoto’s full hips. She didn’t know if she was allowed to touch like this, because Mikoto usually wouldn’t let her unless given express permission, but this evening seemed a little different. Mikoto was a lot more open, even if Kushina could never read her face.

“You know that I am not patient,” Kushina complained. She admired Mikoto as she slid up closer and closer. There was a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and the slightest upward curve of her eyes, so deep brown but also just slightly diluted with a color like honey. Mikoto smelled like something… purple. Lilacs, maybe, even as she was perspiring. She was dainty as she had ever been, despite being mother to two children. Her body held the same proportions it always had, since they had been teen-aged. She did nothing but look upon Kushina’s face, and that was all it took for Kushina’s mind to nearly be consumed by a fog. “What do you want to know?” She felt weak but not exhausted, because she hadn’t quite reached her end. She was searching for friction from Mikoto’s body, but Mikoto was pointedly _not_ letting that happen.

Mikoto was never so _shy._ Kushina’s heart was beating strangely. She was beginning to feel a slight anxiety at the fact that Mikoto wouldn’t just speak. She was not the kind of woman to not say what she meant without caring whether or not it was well received. “I just… want to know.” She pushed her hair from her face again, but it fell back into her eyes just as soon as she’d moved it. Kushina’s fingers pushed into Mikoto’s hairline, keeping her bangs at bay. Mikoto was biting her lip when Kushina revealed her face the second time.

Kushina thought that she might have had the urge to roll her eyes at Mikoto, but it didn’t come. She wanted Mikoto to trust her enough to say this, whatever it was. Whether Kushina wanted to hear it or not. Mikoto sighed, and Kushina felt blood rushing to her skin’s surface as Mikoto’s fingers traced swirls into the skin of her bare chest.

“I want to know if you love me.” Mikoto breathed the words out in a sigh. Her voice was but a whisper. Her eyes were hopeful, but also apprehensive. Kushina could feel the _want_ coming off of Mikoto in waves, like a lake, like the sea. Unbound, without control. She _needed_ this from Kushina, needed it more than she needed the heat that their bodies could create together. 

And that was why it was so hard to feel the way Kushina did. Harder than ever for her in that moment to close her eyes and draw her own lip between her teeth. She _did,_ she had. She always had. A foolish feeling she’d developed when they were but children. It was a decades-old feeling, one that Kushina had attempted to rid herself of for too long. Fighting it was more difficult than bringing Naruto into the world. So she could not say no. But there was no way that she could say yes.

“You can’t ask me to answer that,” Kushina said. Her voice echoed the hopelessness she saw in Mikoto’s eyes as she spoke. Mikoto sat up quickly and turned her head to the side, closing her eyes. 

“I can, and I have. It is a question with only ‘yes’ or ‘no’ as answers.” Mikoto looked upon Kushina again, this time with _fire_. Kushina could feel Mikoto’s body growing hot to the touch the longer she kept her waiting. Mikoto crossed her arms.

“I cannot— you _know_ the answer. Do not make me speak it,” Kushina begged. 

It was too late, of course.

Mikoto flew up from the bed in an instant. She stood, her arms still crossed, and one of her straps still sliding down her shoulder. She did not care an ounce. “You are an evil temptress, Senju Kushina. Do you know how my heart has ached for you? The years have _dragged_ on, and I am still alone. I have only ever wanted to be happy. I watched my Mother sulk herself around this place for too long, watching your father and your mother together. Watching them have _you_ and your awful sister, watching them be happy. Never once did she speak out publicly against their wedding, but she was shattered by it. She told me, she told me that I should never allow myself to feel the way she felt. It was _weak_ , it was unbecoming. It wasn’t what an Uchiha would feel. If I was to be anyone, to have any power at all, then I must not reduce myself to moping.”

Kushina sat up and dragged herself to the edge of her bed. She pulled the covers over herself. “Please,” she mumbled uselessly. Mikoto was already pacing, throwing her hands into the air, running her fingers through her hair until it was a mess. 

“I told myself that I would never be that way, for my sake. For my own sake! I would never mope about a man. It would never, ever happen. And then I was arranged with Fugaku, and I didn’t shed a tear. He wasn’t what I wanted. He was nothing special, but he was for me. He may have had his bed wenches, but they were just whores. What king didn’t? He _loved_ me. I had not look elsewhere. But my eyes never left you. Vile. Beautiful. A snake! I would never feel that way about a man, that much was certain. It was easy. I could pretend easily. I was good at theatrics. He would never make me lose my control.” By then, Mikoto had stomped back over to the bed. They were inches apart. Her voice dropped low, just as it had before. 

“But I _never,”_ Mikoto grasped Kushina’s hair tight, eliciting a gasp, “told myself not to feel this way about a woman. And that’s exactly what I went and did.” She released Kushina and then fell to her knees in front of her. “You burned me to the ground. Everything I ever was, everything I ever hoped to be. You scorched it. You pull me in so close, take my heart for prisoner, and yet you resent me. Resent me for doing what I _had_ to do.”

Mikoto’s next words were never uttered. There was a creak outside of Kushina’s chamber door, which caused Mikoto to spring to her feet. Kushina suddenly felt every inch of her bare skin against the air. A soft knock sounded against her door. “Who is it?” Kushina cast a glance at Mikoto, who shrugged wildly and then looked at the door with frenzied eyes. 

“Your sister. May I come in?” Kushina rolled her eyes and ran a hand over her face. Of _course_ it was Karin.

“Not at this moment,” Kushina said. It was hard to keep her voice steady. 

She heard Karin sigh grumpily on the other side of the door. “Fine, you difficult old woman. I’m here to summon you to dinner. You’re late by at least an hour. We tried to find Mikoto, but she is nowhere to be seen.”

Kushina’s eyes cut to Mikoto again, whose own were now at her shifting feet. “Where is my son?” Kushina called to the door.

“He’s waiting for you. And is rather antsy, at that.” Karin did nothing to mask the annoyance in her voice. “Hurry up and get decent. I will be out here when you need me to tie your garments.”

“N-no, you don’t have to stay,” Kushina said quickly. She stood and padded her way carefully to the door. She put her hands to it as well as her ear. “I’ll be fine alone. I know the way to the Great Hall,” Kushina said evenly. “And I’ll try to find Mikoto,” she added, wincing at herself.

Karin scoffed lightly. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry up, please. Your son thinks he isn’t allowed to eat without you, and Sasuke isn’t allowed to eat without him.”

“I will make haste, I promise,” Kushina said. She bit her lip and closed her eyes tight as she willed her sister to leave. It felt like an eon had passed before she heard Karin’s footsteps retreating, and the door to the stairwell opening and closing behind her. Only then did Kushina let out the breath she had been holding.

“What will we do?” Mikoto asked frantically. She came close, but not too close.

“I will get dressed in here, and I will sneak you down to your chamber. Then we’ll go to dinner, and then perhaps speak about this later?” Kushina’s voice was hopeful. She was already pulling her dress back on, one component at a time.

Mikoto shook her head. “We will get dressed and go to dinner, yes. But we will not speak of this again.” Mikoto grabbed her hair pins from the vanity and went to stand near the door, to wait for Kushina to finish. “In fact, I don’t know if I ever want to speak to you again.”

“Mi, you don’t mean that,” Kushina said dismissively. She scoffed at the thought that the two of them would never speak again. It wasn’t real. But when she looked up, she saw the same fire in Mikoto’s eyes that she’d seen earlier. Less intense, but the same emotion.

“I do mean it,” Mikoto said simply. “If you cannot admit that you love me, then I don’t want to hear any of the other words that might come from your mouth.”

Kushina stood in shock with the back of her dress still open. Mikoto came to help her lace it up, and Kushina could feel her anger in the way she jerked her about and made no attempts to be gentle. “Say it, then,” Kushina murmured.

“Say what?”

“Say that you are finished with me.”

Mikoto drew away from Kushina’s back and when Kushina turned, she saw that Mikoto’s back was to her. Even from this vantage point, Kushina could see Mikoto was crying. 

“I’ll never be able to say that, you stupid girl,” Mikoto said. Kushina wrapped an arm around Mikoto’s shoulders even as she tried to fight and get away. “How badly I wish to be finished with you.” Mikoto almost screamed this, but Kushina shushed her.

“It’s just like my Mother told me,” Mikoto said quietly, her voice shaking. “Never get too close to a Senju, because they will make you forget who you are.”

“You know what my Mother said about you?” Kushina said. Her voice was a bit more light. 

Mikoto shook her head. She wiped at her face and sniffed hard a few times. 

“An Uchiha will always burn you. It is only a matter of whether or not it is on accident, or on purpose.”


	4. Catching Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the self indulgence has startedddddd
> 
> catching feelings - justin bieber

**_ Naruto _ **

Naruto glanced around the Great Hall uneasily. The nobles of the surrounding houses were muttering amongst themselves about how long it had been, and how cold the food was bound to get if they waited for much longer. On his other side, Naruto could feel Itachi’s anxiety mounting. Naruto nudged Sasuke with his elbow underneath the table and leaned close, so close that his lips brushed the shell of her ear. 

“Is your mother always so late when she is a guest?”

Sasuke’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t been expecting Naruto to speak so close to her ear, maybe. She whipped her head around and glared at him.

“Is _yours_ when she is the host?”

Naruto took a long sip of his wine and shrugged to keep his surprise at Sasuke’s attitude from showing on his face. “We don’t have very many guests,” he said, as coolly as he could muster. Sasuke’s eyes were still cold when he looked at her again. He felt slightly put off that he was looking into her eyes, because she was nearly just as tall as him. He had been _sure_ that by this time in their lives, he’d be taller. He wasn’t accustomed to being shorter than a girl. But, really, there was nothing about Sasuke that Naruto was used to. 

Besides her height, she seemed not to have changed very much. She was still so sharp of tongue and slight of body. Her hair was longer, yes, and she had grown into parts of her face, but that was only on the outside. She had the proportions of a woman, now, though Naruto hated to admit this even to himself. There was a voice in his head reminding him to beware of Sasuke, and the voice sounded a lot like his mother. And sometimes like his aunt.

On the outside, Sasuke was different. But on the inside still lived the rowdy little girl that pulled his hair and threw mud on him when their parents weren’t around. She was _clearly_ still interested in the same things. Naruto reached up to his throat and ran a careful finger over the fresh line there. He hoped that in the dimness of the Hall, no one else could see it. He remembered with a grimace the way that Sasuke had greeted him at knifepoint. 

“Do you wish to threaten me?” Naruto had tried to sound authoritative, but his voice was shaking, just as the hand holding his candle was. The light coming from it wavered as Naruto’s hand trembled. He could see himself in the glass of the dagger, and though it must have been at least a century old, he could still smell the faintest trace of something like smoke. To this day, there was fire in that dagger, and it was being pointed directly at Naruto’s throat.

Sasuke lowered her blade just as Naruto gulped. “I wish to threaten anyone who would threaten me,” she said lightly. She ran her index finger over the blunt part of the dagger after turning it over in her hands a few times. “It’s pretty, right?” 

Naruto pursed his lips. “It’s lovely,” he said sarcastically. He didn’t have time for this, to stand with Sasuke and revel in her love for the dangerous and unladylike. Sasuke cut her eyes to him when she heard the tone of his voice. She flounced around the room, brandishing the blade this way and that, up and down, swishing it about her face and head. She was dancing with it. He watched the way she moved, so gracious even in the dark. The black jewels in the handle of her dagger shone obscenely in the fragile light of Naruto’s candle. He certainly did not watch the way the curve of her hips as she swayed with her dagger, and he certainly did not trail his eyes up her body until he was watching the swell of her chest. Not one bit, not for a second. Only ever her eyes, her face.

“What has brought you to my chamber after the sun is down?” Sasuke asked. She stood with the blade at her side. Naruto wished that she would just drop it. 

“The sun is _barely_ down,” Naruto first pointed out. “And, I’m here to summon you. Your family are our guests, at least for the night; we could not send you away without a proper feast. As a thank you.”

Sasuke snorted. “Thank _who_? Why? Thank my brother for offering me to you, a dolt, like some agreement between a bank and a merchant? Or thank my Mother for allowing it?” She was growing more annoyed by the second.

Nevertheless, Naruto remained calm. On the outside, at least. He was eyeing the blade at Sasuke’s side as he said, “It is simply a final offering of peace and goodwill as your family makes their journey back across the border.” 

Sasuke didn’t quite seem to be sold on this, but she was in no place to dispute him. This was _his_ kingdom, _his_ palace. She was _his_ guest. Knowing this, she still managed to regard Naruto with great suspicion. “If it is time to eat, then why have you come to me in clothes meant for repose?”

Naruto looked down at his rather plain sleeping garments. His face grew hot as he met Sasuke’s sharp eyes once more. He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “I… take time, during the day, to rest,” he said.

“After your long day of listening to peasants saying the same thing over and over again, asking you for help?” Sasuke crossed her arms carefully. She was so deft with that dagger. By now, Naruto would have cut himself at least five times.

“Yes, exactly,” Naruto said with a nod.

“It must be so... exhausting?” 

“It _is_ ,” Naruto agreed. It took him a few more seconds than it should have for him to realize that Sasuke was mocking him. He huffed a breath. “I’ll have you _know_ —” he began, but Sasuke was already nearly buckled over with laughter.

“It must be so difficult to be in charge of the farmers and all of their sheep!” Sasuke wheezed. “And the poor women, the fishmongers, the tanners. Yes, your life must certainly be harrowing.” Sasuke wiped tears from her eyes. “Far be it from me to judge you for your day-sleeping.”

Naruto’s eyebrows were drawn together and he frowned. “You wouldn’t know, woman. You were never going to be queen before me,” he blurted. Sasuke suddenly fell silent, and her eyes looked over Naruto’s entire body once, very slowly. Naruto blinked one time, and in the next instant he gasped and dropped his candle, shattering it in an explosion of molten wax and glass. Sasuke had the dagger at his throat, pressed in just slightly so that he could feel the cold kiss of the blade starting to use its teeth on his skin. He gasped loud and attempted to wriggle away, but Sasuke twisted his arm behind his back and held him close at both ends.

“Say it again,” Sasuke whispered. She was close, so close that Naruto could feel her breath fanning out across the back of his neck. “Tell me that I will never be queen again, without the likes of you. Say it. I want to hear it.”

Naruto gulped and tried to shake his head, only to be met with the blade once more in every direction. He stood as perfectly still as he could and held his breath. The slightest movement could have his life force spilling out onto the floor in front of him, and he wouldn’t even know it had happened. Naruto closed his eyes and prayed to Ashura that Sasuke wasn’t such a maniac as that. 

When she released him, Naruto let out his breath in a deep sigh that wracked his shoulders. He saw her stepping lightly on the fire that his candle had started, and then they were in nearly complete darkness save the deep red of the sunset. Naruto heard the blade being laid on stone, probably a table. “Go and get another candle,” Sasuke ordered. “Come back, so that I may dress. And do not show up here in _pajamas_ again, or else there will be only worse from me.”

Naruto decided on his way back to his own chambers that he was sick of Sasuke already. It would be a long two and a half months, he thought with a sigh. And why had he listened to his aunt, anyway? What did _she_ know about real love, he wanted to know. She had driven her husband crazy enough to run away from her and everything he owned. Karin didn’t have any children, and Naruto thought that she might be just a tad obsessed with him, the longer he dwelt on it in his mind. 

“Is there anyone in here?” Naruto called to his chambers. This was one of his many simpler rooms, scattered across the palace. Sometimes he got tired, and he didn’t want to travel across the castle or up a flight of stairs. His question echoed off the grand, crumbling columns that bordered the window arches. There was a never ending round of maids that came in when he very much did not want them there. His mother told him it was just because he needed to be clean and well kempt, but Naruto knew that it was really in the hopes of becoming… more than a maid. So many had been sent away for making untoward advances that at one point, Kushina had feared they would have to import him a maid from a foreign land.

Luckily, tonight there were none lurking near his bed or his bath, so he could dress in peace. After changing into a different pair of pants, Naruto pulled a plain undershirt over his head. After he’d put on his doublet (he struggled greatly with the ties and wondered if he would ever _not_ ), he knelt before his mirror and examined himself. He didn’t know why, but there was something in him that wanted Sasuke to be impressed in the way that he appeared before her. He craned his neck to examine the line Sasuke had put across it with her dagger. It felt _raw_ when he ran a finger over it, as though she’d really broken his skin. There was no blood, though, just a deep line that was nearly as red as the velvet of his doublet. Naruto sighed. That _girl_. What was he getting himself into?

The door creaking open startled Sasuke, but she only stood. She raised no blades to him this time. Naruto had half a mind to wonder where it was, and how many more she had already stashed away in here. “My lady,” Naruto whispered, “I hope I did not keep you waiting too long?” 

Sasuke rolled her dark eyes. “You did. And I am not a lady. I am the princess of Uchiha. Just because you have me here, stuck as your prisoner, does not mean that I will forget that any time soon.” She waited impatiently for Naruto to light the sconces in her room before she began to dress. She shifted through one of her trunks, pulling out undergarments and frocks on her way down to what she was looking for. She held a necklace in her left fist as she placed a small knife on the floor. From his position at the door, Naruto’s eyes grew wide.

“Just how many blades did you bring with you, _princess_?” he asked.

Sasuke lifted her head to give Naruto a flat look. “Enough. If the king of this country can wriggle his way into my room like a worm, I shudder to imagine what the lesser folk will try.” Though she had just said those words, when Naruto chanced taking a few more steps into the room, Sasuke did not protest or insult him further. She gathered together something equally as purple as what she was wearing before, but it wasn’t the same outfit. 

Sasuke seemed to give no care that Naruto was in the room, standing feet from her. She was just… undressing. She took off her long nightgown with her back turned to Naruto so that all he could see was the thin sharpness of her shoulders and her bare back. Next, she stooped down to put on the first of her undergarments. With her body safely covered, she turned to face Naruto once more. He hoped that the light of the sconces was not bright enough to illuminate the blush on his cheeks.

“So, my king,” Sasuke said conversationally, “what is it that you’ll be trying to find out during this time that you are keeping me captive?” 

Naruto shrugged and ignored Sasuke’s general disrespect. “If you are any good at wife things, I don’t know. Tending to me, listening to me, keeping my secrets. All the things a good wife does.” 

Sasuke snorted. “A _good_ wife. I do not hope to be good at anything except for my craft. I certainly do not aspire to win any recognition from waiting on you.” She pulled her bodice tight around her chest and then shuffled over to Naruto to have him tie it. He was careful not to pull the strings too hard. 

“Your swords?” 

Sasuke nodded. Naruto could smell her this close. She had the faintest tinge of fire to her, like she too had been forged from something, but she mostly smelled like the sea air that blew in through the window. He was so intrigued by her, though he was afraid to admit this. He was not supposed to give her any sort of footing to control him. He knew all the things Kushina, Karin, and Mito had said about Uchiha; how they were poison, tempting, monstrous, beguiling with venomous intent.

But Sasuke smelled so _good_.

Naruto tied Sasuke into her dress and allowed her to take a step away from him when it was secure. “You… would not have truly killed me, right?” He scratched the back of his neck. 

Sasuke hummed as though she were really having to think about it. “No,” she said finally, after a long moment. “They’d kill me for it, and where’s the fun in that?” 

Despite his best efforts, Naruto felt now, sitting next to Sasuke on this dais, that she was already beginning to infect him. 

Sasuke’s fingernails were tapping rhythmically against the table. She leaned closer to whisper to him in a furious voice. “If we must sit here and wait for five more _seconds_ —”

Sasuke’s complaining was cut short by the creaking of the doors at the end of the Hall, so far away. Naruto almost had to squint to see through all the people that his and Sasuke’s mothers had _finally_ made their entrance. Itachi let out a heavy sigh on Naruto’s other side.

Naruto scrambled from his chair quickly, and everyone else in the Hall stood, too. He let a hand down to signal that they could sit. “It seems that my mother and our regal guest have finally decided to show! Let the feast begin!” A raucous cry went up that almost shook the table when Naruto sat back down. Sasuke grumbled until a cup of something spiced was sat in front of her. Then, she did not have very much else to say.

They were all lucky that the food was not ice cold when it was set in front of them. There were great roasted carved beasts, boars and the like; wines, ales, and meads that held a variety of potencies and were imported from distant countries; smoked fish over rice; and Naruto’s personal favorite, the fowl. He could never get enough of the taste of a good bird. Kushina had always said that it was because birds flew, and Naruto held wind attributes. He just thought they tasted better.

Sasuke seemed particularly interested in the fish. She had plate after plate, among other things, and Naruto found himself a little shocked at how much she could eat. He didn’t know why he was surprised, when he thought more about it. Sasuke had always had the appetite of ten grown men, even when they were young. She was also drinking rather heavily. This was new. Naruto watched as Sasuke tried a little bit of everything, even picking up his wooden goblet when he seemed to not want its contents. 

Naruto leaned back in his chair to see his mother at the far end of the table. She was wearing the same clothes as before, which he supposed was not so unusual. It was her hair that was putting him off. Before, the bun atop her head had been immaculate, as though sculpted. Now, there were some places where it seemed to be hastily put together. When he turned his head to the other end of the table, he saw that Mikoto was wearing a completely different ensemble than before. Where her hair had once been intricately braided, there now hung one over her shoulder. And it was sloppy.

“Princess,” Naruto mumbled to Sasuke, but she wasn’t listening. He put a hand on her shoulder. Sasuke turned her head to him slowly, but she seemed to be looking through him. Naruto looked at his hand for a moment. He had to remember who he _was_ , and not be so shy. She was to be his wife… maybe. His fingers felt on fire when he slid his hand onto Sasuke’s thigh. 

Instantly, Naruto knew that he had her attention. She sucked in a sharp breath and turned to him quickly. Her eyes went from his hand in her lap to his face. Naruto chalked the pink on her cheeks to the fact that she was drunk. Sasuke’s hand laid over Naruto’s before slowly shoving his off of her. “What do you mean to attempt? Here at the _table_?” Her voice was heavy, and so were her eyelids. She still managed to draw her eyebrows together and poke out her bottom lip.

“I just wanted your attention, Your Highness,” Naruto huffed.

“What do you want?” 

“Do you think there’s anything odd about my mother? Or yours?” Naruto asked. For his own sanity, he ignored her tone.

Sasuke turned her head to her right to view her mother. “She’s minding her own business,” Sasuke decided, turning back to face Naruto again. “Have you ever tried that?”

Naruto pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re hopeless,” he mumbled. This was to be his wife, a woman who wielded swords at him, could not handle her spirits, and spoke so recklessly to him in public? Naruto would have to give his mother a piece of his mind about this arrangement when this night was over.

Dessert featured all of Naruto’s favorite things. He liked pies and custards and cakes and pastries and all kinds of treats in general. He noticed that Sasuke didn’t touch very much of anything after she wasn’t being served anymore wine. _Good_ , he thought. _She’s had quite enough_. Naruto didn’t want to have to be fretting over Sasuke the entire night. 

Itachi wanted to give a speech. Naruto had no qualms, as long as it was brief. Itachi stood, and so did everyone else in the room that was not seated on the dais. He waved a hand to let them be seated once more. Naruto looked up at Itachi as he spoke.

“My fellow countrymen,” Itachi said, holding his drink aloft. “I know that this may seem short notice, but I would like to thank you all for accepting us across the border.” There was a general murmur of approval towards Itachi, so he continued. He seemed a lot less out of his wits than his sister. “I would also like to thank you, Your Highness,” he placed a warm hand on Naruto’s shoulder, “for considering my sister to stand at your side. It has been a long time since Princess Sasuke has had any real responsibility.” Naruto laughed into his cup at this, but then he caught sight of the _ice_ coming from Sasuke’s eyes, and his chuckle stopped short. 

“We hope to teach her a thing or two during her stay,” Naruto said. _Number one being humility, and number two being couth._ Itachi gave him a small smile before he continued.

“Though I will miss my sister dearly, I know that she has what it takes to be your queen,” Itachi said. He lifted his drink higher and raised his voice when he said, “Here’s to newfound and everlasting peace!”

Naruto drained his cup then. Sasuke was still without a drink; maybe it was fitting. She wouldn’t have raised it anyway. He was positive that none of this had been her idea. By the look on her face when she was presenting herself to him earlier, it didn’t seem that she had been informed of this plan for very long. Naruto eyed Itachi suspiciously at his side. He was aware that the king should not speak private business to just anyone, but Sasuke was Itachi’s sister, and his princess. Jiraiya had spoken to the intense strength of their bond, and Naruto remembered it. What kind of a king didn’t inform his one and only heir that she would be offered away? What kind of _brother_?

He was yawning behind his hand when his bannermen started to stand and file out. So _many_ houses, so many lords and ladies, so many names to remember. Naruto tried to count all of the crests he could. There were the Inuzuka; theirs was a crest of one man surrounded by beasts of all shapes and sizes. They were a house that mostly just raised the Senju hunting hounds, and in return, Naruto and his predecessors had given them plenty of space. (And very far away. They were also breeders for their own ends. They exported pelts and all sorts of patterned dog hides that were then crafted into clothing for pages to wear, or bags, and all of those dogs needed space to roam and grow.)

Naruto also spotted the representative for the Hatake, whose crest was a bit misleading. Though they harnessed the energy of lightning, they adorned their clothing and armor with the insignia of a simple sprout. They were now related to the Inuzuka through one Kakashi. His hair reminded Naruto of Master Jiraiya, but it was much shorter, and had more of a luster to it, like a metal. Though he was not of a legitimate background, he was generally respected within the palace because he was the liaison between the nobles and the hound breeders, and the farmers as well. He was humble, and Naruto had learned a thing or two from him in his distant youth.

There were Yamanaka, too, but they were a small house headed by one woman called Ino. She was around Naruto’s age. Tall, blonde, and statuesque, she was somewhat of an enigma. Naruto had not had too many detailed conversations with her, but he knew that she was without children or husband. It was all for the better, she was very busy. She had the very important role of being the lady of one of the greater border territories, so it was her job, among a few others, to warn the capital of imminent danger. This danger, historically, had only ever come from Uchiha. It was fitting, then, that she wore a brooch in the shape of a watchful eye on the right side of her chest.

There had been plenty of other houses, in the days of old, but they had either disbanded and regrouped, or instead sworn fealty to the Uchiha after the war that had killed Naruto’s father. Naruto held no memories of that time, and yet it was still shaping his life to this day. 

This night. 

This night where Sasuke could barely stand on her own. Naruto felt lucky that her brother had already bid them good night. “He’s what they might call a _loser_ back home,” Sasuke had mumbled. “He sleeps early, and wakes up even earlier. Makes no sense… are you going to finish that?”

Now, an hour later, the Hall was nearly empty save Naruto, Sasuke, and Mikoto. Kushina had retired early, too, saying that the day had exhausted her thoroughly from beginning to end. Mikoto had made a pensive sound, but remained otherwise silent. She was now standing near the doors, all the way down the Hall, and Naruto could see even from this distance that her eyes were on him and her daughter. _This is ridiculous_ , Naruto reasoned with himself. Was he afraid of her, a widow who now would only have one of her children home with her? Well. Yes. Because she was the queen regnant of his most contentious political relationship on this entire continent, and besides _that_ , she was Sasuke’s mother. That fact alone was enough to make him want to avert his eyes from her as he approached with Sasuke leaning heavily against him. 

Mikoto clicked her tongue as they drew near. “I apologize for her sloppy tendencies. She has long been banned from partaking in spirits at home unless on the most momentous of occasions for this reason.” Mikoto got a hand under Sasuke’s chin and jerked it up. Sasuke’s eyes were low, but she still had a glare saved for her mother. 

“And where do you think I got this from, hm? Only age separates our tolerance,” Sasuke spit. Her words were surprisingly clear. Naruto adjusted his hold on her shoulders and her waist so that she might stand on her own, but she seemed content to lean with her face pressed hot against his neck. 

“What do you suggest I do with her?” Naruto asked helplessly, as though Sasuke hadn’t spoken and wasn’t there in the first place. So much for not wanting to fret over her. Mikoto’s eyes trailed from Naruto’s arm around Sasuke’s waist to the way that Sasuke was smiling into the skin of Naruto’s throat. Naruto could feel the ice being directed at him the longer Mikoto stared in silence. 

“Do with her what you must,” she said, waving a hand. “She is not my responsibility from this point forward, and thank Kaguya for _that_.” Without any more words, Mikoto left Naruto there, in the near dark, with Sasuke beginning to trace lines across his face. Naruto watched her leave; with every step she took, his despair mounted. 

“Why are we still standing here?” Sasuke asked in a low voice. Naruto felt her words on his cheek. He shuddered lightly and unhanded her. After some wobbling in place like a frond in the wind, she managed to stand upright. 

“Because I do not know where to put you,” Naruto admitted.

“Perhaps in my cell?”

Naruto lifted an eyebrow.

“My _chambers_ ,” Sasuke huffed. Naruto rolled his eyes. He’d nearly forgotten about her theatrics.

“You’re alright to sleep on your own?” He was still concerned about her, even though she was so gruff and rude. There was something about her belligerence that he found endearing. _Kill me_ , Naruto thought. 

Sasuke began to take wavering steps away from him. “I will be just fine,” she slurred. “I do not need you to find sleep tonight. And I don’t want you getting any ideas, either.” Sasuke slumped against the doorway when she reached it. Naruto took the two or three steps required to meet her there, and he watched her struggle. 

“Ideas? My lady.” Naruto clicked his tongue even as Sasuke whipped her head around to fix him with her less-than-sharp gaze.

“I told you, you foolish man. I am a _princess_ , I will be the queen,” Sasuke ground out. Naruto could tell she had grit her teeth by the way her breaths wheezed out. 

“Queen consort,” Naruto pointed out graciously. “Never queen regnant.” 

“Must you mention that every time I speak? You are rather boring sometimes, do you know that?” Sasuke’s eyes betrayed the awful attitude that her voice held. There was nothing behind the words she said. Naruto adjusted Sasuke’s tiara as it was slipping off of her head. 

“You do not need me,” Naruto said decidedly. He took a step back from her and regarded Sasuke with as little concern as he could muster upon his face and in his eyes. “I’m sure you will make it all the way to your chambers without me, then.”

Sasuke’s eyes grew impossibly wide, and the rosy tint to her cheeks slowly drained. “Wh— all the way up there?” Sasuke lifted her index finger weakly toward the ceiling.

Naruto nodded solemnly. “Oh, yes. All the way up there.” He bid Sasuke farewell and began walking away from her, slowly. _He_ wasn’t going to go all the way up there. He had a room a lot closer than the one he’d been sleeping in earlier today, and he usually reserved it for times like this when there was a feast of any sort. He heard Sasuke’s feet stumbling behind him, but he ignored her. He wanted to _hear_ her need him.

“Please, please,” Sasuke said breathily behind him. Naruto turned to face her once more and crossed his arms.

“Well, well. What do you want?” Naruto asked. He snickered when Sasuke nearly tripped but resumed his serious face when she looked at him again. 

“I cannot possibly hope to ascend all of those stairs,” Sasuke whined. She fell upon Naruto when she reached him, and on instinct his hands came out to hold her to him. She was warm, warmer than any body he’d ever had against his. Not that it had been many, but he knew that it was because she was made of flames on the inside. 

Naruto shook his head. “Tsk tsk. What would you have me do with you, then? You do not possibly _need_ me, do you?”

Sasuke breathed a heavy sigh. Her breath smelled of cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg. And lots and lots of wine. She shoved his hands off of her hips just the way that she had at the table and pouted. “I… may,” she said slowly. The expression on her face was dizzy. Naruto could feel how unstable she was just from looking at her. 

“You may?”

Sasuke rolled her eyes hard and looked down at the runner carpet that spanned the corridor they were standing in, all alone. The light of the sconces was low, and the moon was shining bright through the high windows.

“I may… require your help,” Sasuke said finally.

Naruto held out his hand for her to take. “Come along then, princess.”

This time, Sasuke said not one word of protest, not until they got to the stairs they had to ascend. “Three flights, Sasuke, please,” Naruto begged. She had dug her heels into the ground, and stood fast even as Naruto began to tug on her sleeve. 

“Too _many_ ,” Sasuke said simply. “Don’t you have a closer room?”

“No,” Naruto ground out. “It’s this one or none.” Sasuke seemed to realize her position in that moment, and she stomped up the stairs, louder and harder with each new flight. By the time they reached the inconspicuous door of the chamber, Naruto was dragging Sasuke by her arm.

“Gods, finally,” Sasuke yelled. Naruto shut the door behind himself and didn’t bother to relight the sconces and candles in the room, since they were going to sleep. When Naruto turned to face the room again, he saw Sasuke struggling to get out of her clothes. He was so, _so_ glad that the lights were dim. 

“I do wonder where you are going to sleep,” Sasuke was saying when Naruto began paying attention to her again, and not the feeling that was creeping up his spine. 

“Where will _I_ sleep? This is my room.” Naruto tripped on his way to the chaise that he knew was tucked into a corner on the other side of the bed. He waved his hand in a flourish to display it so Sasuke. “This is all for you, princess.”

“Why, Your Highness, did you bring me to a room with only one bed?” 

Sasuke was nearly finished stripping herself of her over-clothes so that all she had on were her very loose fitting undergarments. She was closer to the bed and Naruto sort of knew better than to try to beat her to it. Among the hair pulling and mud slinging, Sasuke also used to like to race. And Naruto never won.

“Because it was the closest one, and you can’t handle your wine. I didn’t want you to be found passed out in the middle of a corridor,” Naruto supplied. Sasuke cut her eyes to him. “For my own sake,” he added. “It would make me look bad if my betrothed was outed as a drunkard at such a young age.”

Sasuke snorted. There was a shine in her eyes as she sat upon the much less ornately-decorated bed than the one Naruto had in his real room, or the room he’d been sleeping in that day. Naruto ignored Sasuke, though, and instead focused on trying to untie himself in the dark. He could feel her eyes on him as he struggled, but for once, it wasn’t hard to not pay attention to her. He couldn’t _see_ what he was doing, and this was already a task that was a lot harder for him than it should have been. 

Naruto heard Sasuke’s now bare feet on the floor, but he thought that she might have just been going to light a candle, or something. He choked a little when he saw her pale fingers come over his. He lifted his eyes to her face, but she was focused entirely on what she was doing. He didn’t have any time to think about whether or not this was a ploy, because then she was pushing his top from his shoulders. Sasuke mumbled an ‘oops’ when it hit the floor. All Naruto could do was watch, as though made of stone, as she slunk back to the bed.

“I suppose it is only right you join me,” Sasuke said eventually. Naruto thought that his eyes might have flown from his head.

“ _What_? In the bed?”

Sasuke grimaced. “No, in the swamp. _Yes_. Get over here.”

Naruto hesitated before picking his way across the room, over the clothes strewn about the floor. He almost stepped on Sasuke’s dress on his way to her. “Are you certain?”

Sasuke shrugged, running a hand over the sheets. “What difference does it make? You can spend one night away from your bed-women, I’m sure.”

Naruto made a face at her across the bed. “My bed-women? What sort of man do you take me for?”

“One with needs? One who can do what he pleases? One that has always done what he pleases?” 

“It does not _please_ me to use a woman.” 

Naruto pulled the covers back and climbed onto the bed. He felt Sasuke do the same. She was facing him, though his eyes were on the ceiling.

“Does that mean that you are… still pure? At your age?”

Naruto nodded. “You are not at yours?”

Sasuke made an indignant sound. “I _am_.” She shook her head. “Itachi had many a man killed for trying to deflower me. It is the only sentence he has ever passed in the last 6 years,” she said.

Naruto nodded to himself. So she would be… his. His forever. In the way that he would be hers forever, he supposed. If they ever got to that place. His mind raced a bit too far a bit too fast, and he had to remind himself that right now, they barely even knew one another. This was just like meeting her all over again, after all of these years. Right now, he could not hope to do anything but find out who she was on the inside, and if he liked that person.

“Tell me a story, Your Highness?” Sasuke pleaded. She shifted closer until her head was resting on Naruto’s shoulder. 

“A story? What sort of story?” Naruto asked.

“I don’t know. A story that will intrigue me. A story about love, or something,” Sasuke said. She was already yawning.

Naruto scratched his chin as he thought. She was so close to him that his mind was drawing blanks. “I don’t know all the details of this story, but my grandfather told it to me. It is old, as old as him.” Sasuke nodded, and her eyes were already closed.

“Is this a true story?” Sasuke mumbled.

“I don’t know, really,” Naruto said. “Now stop talking, or else you won’t hear any of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, it is justin bieber’s catching feelings


	5. Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello once again, i am back with something short but very dramatic :) pretty spicy if you ask me. trust me i have no forgotten about the challenge that goes along with this fic, i’m just drawing it out bc would it be me if i didn’t? i hope you all enjoyed and pls stay tuned for more 
> 
> blessings - big sean

**_Obito_ **

“Oh, Madara,” Obito whispered to himself, “did you ever imagine your realm looking like this?”

He sat on his near-black horse in the cover of the trees, as well as the dark night that was illuminated only by a sparse smattering of stars and a waxing moon. His eyes shone red as he spied the party moving slowly over the winding country road. There were a number of meandering horses, but Obito’s eyes were focused on the two at the head of the party. 

Itachi and Mikoto. But… there was no Princess Sasuke. He wished desperately to know what they might be saying, or where she was. Since he’d been traveling, he hadn’t stayed in one place long enough to hear the kingdom gossip from the women who frequented the bars and were their most charming, in the hopes of getting him home with them for the night. “I’m married,” he would say, flashing the plain band to their faces. It was usually enough to have them off of him, but some were persistent. Though they told him what he wanted to hear, he had no time for dalliances. He had points to prove and scores to settle, beginning with that boy sitting on that auburn horse, and his mother on her black one behind him.

It was lucky, really, that he had come upon them. He was not following them, though he knew that they were traveling, at least. It had been dangerous, scoping out the new Uchiha palace, because the guards were surprisingly perceptive. Obito had expected there to be less competent guards, but he supposed he shouldn’t have doubted Itachi so heavily. In his short time staying just beyond the radius of the patrol, Obito had only been able to gather that while the important delegates remained in the country, the king, princess, and the queen mother had all been gone for the week. But _why_ , he had not been able to figure. Now, watching them all trudge with no urgency back in the direction of the border between eastern and western Konoha, Obito felt a surge of something prideful run through him.

It was because they were fools.

Obito clicked his tongue and dug his heels into his horse’s side so that he would move. He did not have time to idly watch Mikoto and Itachi on their way. On his way out of the swamp, he had already traveled through trees, across rivers, and over hilled areas so steep that he had to dismount to get through them. He was so close he could _taste_ it with every step his horse took. The air grew sweet as he drew closer to his destination. Would it even still stand? Knowing Madara’s power, he had reason to doubt that much of it was left.

The dawn sun was cutting over the horizon by the time the rubble came into Obito’s view. He would have liked to hurry his horse again, but he could feel the magic of other people around, and he didn’t want to alert anyone to his presence before he was ready. He hoped that they weren’t after the same thing that he was, but this close up, there was no real way to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. If you were this close, you were stealing. He could only hope that they were common thieves with but a common goal. There was water magic among them, but it bothered Obito naught. His blood ran hotter than most. Hot enough to evaporate water, for certain. 

Obito was wary as he approached the ruined Uchiha castle of old. Where once had stood a gigantic, majestic, expansive palace of great dark obsidian and intricate stained glass work now stood nothing but piles of ash, hunks of black rocks, and a lot of misplaced glass. The spires and towers were all crumbled and dusted. There was no difference now between baileys and courtyards. Fallen portcullises filled the now dry moat. Everything was black and gray, save the glass that had once told stories of the conquering of this land and the victory that Obito’s bloodline had been afforded when the fool Ashura had allowed his brother the larger portion of the land. There had originally been work done to reconstruct the glass portraits of the old Uchiha, but Madara had decided it was a waste of time and resources that needed to be put into building the new palace, hundreds of miles from here. Much farther from the border. Much farther from the Senju palace, though these ruins were technically in what was now Senju country.

Obito surveyed the area carefully from where he sat, up high on a ridge. Only one magic could be detected, the closer he got, but it was powerful. There was something else about the man, too, something that seemed of another world. He narrowed his eyes and blinked a few times. _Yes_ , he thought to himself as his vision refocused. _There may be trouble_. He could wait for the other person to show themselves, but he was not a coward. Besides, this was _his_ land. His mission. He would not let someone of opposing magic strike fear in him, no matter how large and dangerous the opposing magic seemed to be. He came off of the ridge and approached the ruins on foot. Best to show that for now, he came in peace.

“I thought that you would never come down off of that beast.” The voice was a lot lighter than Obito expected. Though Obito was caught off guard, he worked hard not to show it. He decided not to speak, and instead to let whomever this was reveal as much about themselves as they pleased. 

“Never thought that I would see one of you here,” they continued. Obito snorted at this, but otherwise remained silent. He came closer to see if he might be able to lay eyes on whom he was speaking with. A lean man stood tall from where he had been stooped down, picking at some rocks. He had gray hair that was slicked back artificially, and a youth about his face. As the man came ever closer, Obito’s eyes told him that this man practiced _spirit_ magic. He drew his lip between his teeth for just a moment, before remembering himself and plastering a confused look upon his face.

“One of who?” Obito asked. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“A real one,” the man said simply. “A real Uchiha.”

Briefly, Obito was shocked. They had only spoken a few sentences to one another, and yet the man recognized him for his true blood so quickly? But, then he remembered that his eyes were currently red, and there was no disputing it. He had no reason to fear this person, anyway.

“What do you tell people?” The man’s tunic was hanging off of one of his shoulders. He was obnoxious, Obito could tell. But there was also something wicked about him, flowing within him. Though Obito did not fear him, he wished never to know the extent of this evil.

“I don’t usually have to explain myself,” Obito said with a shrug. “I’m not going to start now. But _you_ will. I don’t recognize those colors, or your accent. Where are you from?”

For a moment it seemed that the man wasn’t going to answer. He leaned down once more to begin picking at rocks. Eventually, he spoke again. “I am from a far away place. Can you guess where?” There was amusement in the man’s tone, as though this were some sort of guessing game.

Obito rolled his eyes. He had no time for this. There were many far away lands, so many that despite all of Obito’s advanced schooling, he still didn’t know about them all. Their borders shifted constantly, countries rose and fell within a child’s lifetime, and he’d only ever been off of this continent once in his forty two years. Other lands were of little interest to him. The things he sought were all close to home, directly underneath one of these piles of debris.

“I do not wish to stand here and do this with… you.” Obito realized that he did not know this man’s name.

“Hidan,” he drawled. There was a warmth to him, despite the inherent evil Obito could feel coming from his magic.

“… _Hidan_ ,” Obito repeated. “I am after something much bigger than a few jewels or a common heirloom. Do stay out of my way, or I will make certain you regret it.”

Hidan scoffed and stood up straight again. By now, Obito was standing amongst the rocks, and he was so close now that he could see Hidan wielded a strange weapon. It was similar to a scythe, but it was superfluously large. There were three prongs, and it was bright red even in this slightest sunlight. Obito quirked his eyebrows at it, but did not bring it up. 

“I was out of here soon, anyway. I’ve been coming here for years, but I can never find anything besides a few gold coins.” Hidan drew his weapon in boredom and twirled it around in his hands. He pointed it in Obito’s general direction. “What makes you think you’ll have any luck? This place has been picked clean.”

Obito regarded Hidan calmly. He was annoying, but he held a nature of magic that Obito had never encountered. He may be of some use, later on. Obito cleared his throat and lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Dunno,” he said easily, “something in my blood tells me that I will find what I’m looking for.”

Hidan narrowed his eyes in a poor attempt to hide his obvious confusion. “What’re you looking for?”

“Something that will finally prove my worth in the world,” Obito said simply. “Step aside, and I will tell you all about it when I find it. You can watch my horse.”

Hidan didn’t like that. “I am not a servant. Do you know why I have come so far from home?” He rolled his eyes. “I do not take orders.”

Obito began rummaging through the rocks, his eyes shining red as he went. He wasn’t close, but he was getting closer. Hidan followed him as he moved farther away from the ridge he’d been sitting in originally. “How would you like to give orders? Be a lord, have people beneath you?” Obito looked up to gauge Hidan’s reaction. 

“Though you are Uchiha,” Hidan said slowly, “you seem in no position to give away such a title. Or any land that may come with it.”

Obito cursed under his breath. He sat upon a flat rock and heaved a few breaths. “I am not… yet. Once I lay my hands on the thing I’m looking for, this country will see its undoing.”

“Its undoing? What do you mean by that?” Hidan’s weapon was gleaming an obscene red in this early morning light. Obito’s eyes probably shone the same.

“Exactly that.” He didn’t need to elaborate. 

It took Obito hours before he began to feel the magic he was searching for. It was emanating from beneath a large boulder. It was so big, Obito could tell why no one had thought to try to move it. Hidan had insisted upon following him up to this point and chattering on about nonsense. He followed some insane religion that thrived solely on blood sacrifice and the importance of ‘good and necessary death.’ Obito was not listening for fear of polluting his brain, but he nodded along as Hidan spoke. To begin with, at least. Eventually, Obito grew tired of Hidan’s prattling and began to completely ignore him.

Obito warned Hidan to stand back as he placed a careful hand on the rock. Though it was big and solid, its perch was precarious. It was liable to fall if hit with just the right kind of force. Hidan seemed skeptical of Obito’s ability, but he took just a few ginger steps back so that he was still within an arm’s length of where Obito positioned himself. He drew in a deep breath that turned into fire as he exhaled. It was a tight ball of energy that blew the tall rock from its place and forced it to collide with another pile several yards away, turning them all into fine dust. The crash caused birds to fly from their roosts in nearby trees, and Obito heard his horse make a noise of distress from far away.

“Woah!” Hidan fell back onto some rubble and stared at Obito with awe when he turned his head to look over his shoulder. “I knew you people were powerful, but never did I imagine it’d be something like _that_!”

Obito turned away wordlessly and continued his rifling through the rocks. So close, so close. He threw rocks and bricks over his shoulders in a frenzy as he dug. “You’d better be careful,” Hidan warned, “or you might hit me.” 

“I would not care if I did,” Obito said absently. He squinted in the low glow of the early morning before a soft smile played upon his lips. “Madara,” he mumbled to himself. He felt something triumphant welling up inside him when he finally closed his fingers around the handle of the gunbai. It was _heavy_. But it was his. It belonged to him, and he could feel that. The chain that attached the scythe was rusted and nearly crumbled away completely. Obito turned the handle over in his hands a few times, examining the instrument close to his eyes. _Yes_ , he thought with a wide grin, _this was hers. This is mine_.

Turning to face Hidan again, Obito wielded the gunbai high in the air. Hidan’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, and his face turned up to follow the line of Obito’s arm that ended at the top of his treasure. Obito cast a shadow over Hidan. He quite liked the shape that his figure cut. “That… that was Madara’s,” Hidan said helpfully.

“I know,” Obito replied. He ran a finger over the base of the fan, where he knew the tomoe must have once been. He’d have it repainted, easy. It would just take a deft hand.

“What’re you going to do with the money you get from selling it?” Hidan asked with genuine curiosity. “Buy some land, become a petty lord?” He was _serious_ with these stupid questions. Obito cut his eyes at Hidan and scoffed. 

“I’m not going to sell it.” Obito’s tone implied that it was the most obvious statement that had ever been made. Because it was. “It belongs to me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This entire land belongs to me. Under my grip.”

When he opened his eyes again, Obito saw Hidan had crossed his arms over his tunic and the part of his chest that was exposed, and his thin eyebrows were drawn together. “How do you figure?”

“Because,” Obito said carefully, “Uchiha Madara was my mother. And…” His voice dropped much lower then. Hidan leaned closer to hear better. 

“And Senju Hashirama was my father!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really do be liking big sean tho
> 
> listen listen i know that it makes no sense but this is an alternate universe and i am taking a large amount of creative license with this because... it’s mine. some things about this are obvious and some are not, but please respect my choices and if it is not to your liking, feel free to drop off! everyone’s welcome to their opinions :)


	6. Ratchet Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s a bad bitch’s birthday today :))) pls pour one out for Mikoto. it’s only right, i love her and it was about time
> 
> ratchet happy birthday - drake

**_Mikoto_ **

“Now,” Kushina breathed from where she was positioned between Mikoto’s legs. “Tell me that you don’t ever want to speak to me again.” 

Mikoto hated herself, but she hated Kushina more. She _hated_ Kushina because she loved her so much. How could this woman of wind magic and Uzumaki blood have this power over her? This woman, who could lament about her feelings and yet have no way to speak the words? This woman, who drew Mikoto so close to the edge that she thought she might really snap this time?

It was simple. 

It was destiny. 

Mikoto’s chest was still heaving as Kushina moved to lay next to her on the bed. When she kissed her, Mikoto could taste herself on Kushina’s lips. Kushina rolled over Mikoto’s body and laid heavy on top of her. It wasn’t fair. This feeling wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right and it didn’t make sense. The longest crush she’d ever had, Mikoto had always told herself. It was bound to go away. It would fade. She got married and had two kids. Her life before Itachi and Sasuke was a distant memory. Kushina was supposed to only dwell there, in the past. But here she was, with her fingers pulling hard at Mikoto’s hair and her thighs on either side of Mikoto’s hips. She existed _right here_ , _right now_. No amount of time could make it fade.

“Must you leave me?” Kushina asked breathlessly. Mikoto struggled to find the words. 

“I must,” she said simply. “My place is over my son, and his place is in our home. I could not stay even if I wanted to.” Mikoto pushed Kushina off of her and sat up, though it pained her. “And I do not.” She ran a hand into her wild hair and then let her fist fall into her lap.

Kushina found this amusing. “You’re usually a much better liar than this,” she said with a smirk. She sat up, too, and her hand came out to touch Mikoto’s arm. Mikoto wished to draw herself away, but she couldn’t. Though Kushina’s touch burned, it hurt so good.

“I do not want to stay with someone who will only ever resent me,” Mikoto quipped. She watched the mirth on Kushina’s face turn to guilt. Kushina’s eyes fell to her own lap.

“I know not to what you refer,” Kushina said with a lot less confidence. 

“You do, you vile hypocrite,” Mikoto spat. She stood from the bed and picked through her trunk on the floor until she could find a robe to cover herself with. 

“Hypocrite? You are just choosing words to spit.” Kushina sprawled her limbs out across the bed so that Mikoto would have no choice but to have their skin touch when she returned to the bed. Mikoto still made certain that Kushina had to reach out if she wanted to touch her.

“Yes, you are a hypocrite to hate me.” Mikoto sat on her knees and crossed her arms.

“I do not hate you,” Kushina said, shaking her head. 

“You must,” Mikoto said, “if you cannot tell me that you love me.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.

“Mi,” Kushina pleaded. “It is not so simple.”

“But it could be!” Mikoto yelled and threw her hands in the air. “It could be just as easy as anything else. As easy as breathing air. As easy as feeling the sun on your skin.” Mikoto was so weak. “Why must it be so difficult to be in love with you?” Her voice was quiet again. She wasn’t asking Kushina, she was asking herself. When would she snap out of it? This was the life her mother had warned her not to live. Never had she expected to be so wrapped up in the guiles of this flower of a woman. There was a beast in Mikoto that could only be sated by this woman’s touch, her breath, her love. It was infuriating.

Kushina did not have an answer to Mikoto’s question. She sat up once more and moved closer to Mikoto. Mikoto squeezed her eyes closed tight and frowned when Kushina’s hand touched her face. “You know that I do not hate you,” Kushina said again, so gentle. Like the petal of a rose falling into Mikoto’s palm. She felt herself bleeding even when Kushina pulled her hand away.

“Then why? Why do you resent me now, twenty one years after it has all been said and done?” Mikoto kept her eyes closed, for she knew that if she opened them, she would only shed tears. This was a night too beautiful, a time too sacred to cry. She didn’t know why they always argued. Why they couldn’t just step over this obstacle, and be together on the other side of it.

Kushina’s silence was causing Mikoto to begin to feel rage. Mikoto knew the reason just as well, but she wanted it to be breathed. It needed to be said. She would not be the only one to suffer tonight. There was something in her head, something that sounded an awful lot like her mother, telling her to do something violent. Crying wasn’t enough pain to put Kushina through, the thing said. But Mikoto pressed her lips together and hugged herself tightly for support.

“You and I have Itachi and Naruto,” Kushina said. Her voice was pained. Mikoto did not give any kind of response. She wanted Kushina to feel it, too, deep in her heart. “And that was enough. They were enough. You, and I, and our husbands and our sons. That was our duty. One each. And yet—”

“And yet, I had another?” Mikoto interrupted Kushina, who made a shocked sound. The obstacle. Mikoto hated this woman for making her feel as though she had been wrong to fulfill her duty as wife, as _queen_. 

“You did not _have_ to birth her. It broke my heart.” Kushina’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Mikoto rolled her eyes and snorted. It was rich. “I did not have to, you are right. But he was my husband, and what else was I to do?” Mikoto shrugged. Her eyes were still squeezed shut. “You are so selfish, to resent me for having _two_ instead of one. You have no right, none.” Kushina tried to wrap her arm around Mikoto, but she shifted away. “I did not love him, you’re right. I love you, loved you, will love you. I disgust myself with it. It is so deep in me that I wonder if there was ever a time that this feeling did not dwell here in my heart. And yet, you tell me that _I_ broke _your_ heart for birthing Sasuke, when I thought surely that I’d never see you again? I killed my husband for you. And yet you resent _me._ You _chose_ Minato, you selected him. I was arranged. And yet you resent _me_.”

Kushina paused. She seemed to have finally recognized that Mikoto wasn’t going to let her touch again. “You may call me selfish. I admit that I know it was your duty,” she said eventually. “But I am only as selfish as you are for running away from me every time I tried to tell you that…” Kushina’s voice trailed off. Mikoto’s eyes flew open.

“That we are _friends_?” Mikoto let her anger show in the red flash of her eyes, and the way that her hands caught the sheets in tight fists. Kushina always had a way of saying sorry for the most unforgivable of things. And Mikoto was always waiting to accept the stupid apologies. But not this time, she told herself. Kushina would hurt, too. 

Except, Mikoto knew that she was too weak. She might ball up her fist and throw it in Kushina’s direction, but by the time it reached her, it would be a hand waiting to caress her face.

She was still angry. “You hurt me, you hurt me for something I couldn’t control! Do you think I wanted to be with that vile man? I never knew what he was bringing to bed with me when he finally came back. I didn’t ask, because you’re not supposed to. But you wouldn’t know that, because that _dolt_ was in love with you and only you. He never stepped with a toe out of line. And when there began to be the suspicions that you had something to do with Fugaku’s illness, what was I to do? These people were and still are itching to see me and my family with broken necks.”

Kushina shook her head. She had retreated to the head of the bed. So far away. She held her knees to her bare chest for a moment before letting her legs fall flat on the mattress again. “Not that we are friends.” It was as though she hadn’t heard anything else Mikoto had said. “That I… love you. Unconditionally.” When she added the last part, she had an expression on her face like she’d made her mind up. Like nothing could change what she felt now.

Mikoto had never fallen upon someone so fast in her life.

“Mother? Do you feel that?”

Mikoto blew out a hard breath through her nose. “Do I feel what, Itachi?” The journey to cross the border had already been on for two days now, and it would take them one more night. The sun was low in the sky on its upward ascent. It had been Itachi’s idea to travel through the night, and though Mikoto detested being awake when the sun was down, she was grateful that they were only one night’s time away now. To be home, she thought with a blissful sigh.

“There’s something… in the air,” Itachi said. Mikoto’s eyebrows drew together. She gazed at the trees on either side of the road, and watched as the leaves stirred in the breeze. She saw that there were no animals, and she heard that the birds had no songs.

“I suppose it’s just a slow day,” Mikoto said to assure Itachi. In her mind, she felt something trying to force its way to the front. All she could think about was Senju Kushina, though, which was the opposite of helpful. Whatever was wriggling its way into her consciousness could not compete with the memories of Kushina’s mouth as she spoke the words, of their bodies together, of the headiness of falling in love all over again. 

The day dragged on with little stops. Mikoto insisted that they have dinner in a building and not on the road, they were royalty, for Kaguya’s sake. Itachi conceded, on the condition that they be back on the road in an hour’s time. It was impossible, with the amount of men they had brought with them, but they made good enough time. Mikoto was exhausted by the time the sun was drawing close to the horizon. She spied the tall black spires of the Uchiha palace, and she felt invigorated once again. The air was moving more the closer they drew to home. Mikoto was relieved every time she felt the breeze in her hair. The farther they traveled from the Senju country, the more normal everything felt.

The road turned from forest to open country and back again a few times, until they reached the large silver gates to the capital city of West Konoha, nestled in the middle of a circle of trees. They were adorned with the old crest of Uchiha; black flames surrounded the glare of two eyes, one red and one purple, with fans on either side of each eye. Mikoto knew these colors even when there was no light. The gates were thrown open when the royal party got close enough. The streets were aglow with warm light as the common people were beginning to light their lamps and lanterns as the moon began to threaten. It was noisy, but not nearly as noisy as the old capital, or the capital of East Konoha. The population of this city was much smaller, and Mikoto liked it that way. There were far less people to hear from in a day, and less peasants for her to have to mind in general. The main road was cobbled and wide enough for four horses to walk shoulder to shoulder, or two carts side by side. In the daytime, it was crowded with makeshift market stands for those especially enterprising merchants who ventured closer to where they knew more money could be found. Now that it was edging upon night, there were only stray dogs and children breaking their curfew running about. Mikoto kept her eyes on the castle as they moved through the city. The comings, goings, and doings of the commoners had never, ever been of interest to her. The same could not be said for her son, but for now he seemed to be just as weary as she was.

The servants were unloading things up into the castle when Itachi’s advisor approached them. “Your Highness,” Shikamaru bowed stiffly, “I have some intelligence to report.” He rarely ever made facial expressions that weren’t bored, so this concern on his face was different than what Mikoto was used to.

Mikoto let out a whiny breath. “Must this happen at this hour? It is surely time to retire.” She crossed her arms and looked to Itachi for help. He was torn between doing what he needed to do and what Mikoto wanted him to do. It was a common dilemma. Usually, Mikoto could count on Itachi choosing what she wanted.

“Myself and the council do not feel that this information should be slept on,” Shikamaru said sharply. Mikoto was about to say something about his tone, but Itachi spoke before she could. He turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders. For once, he seemed inclined to do what his own mind was telling him.

“Mother, go to bed. Whatever this is, I will tell you about it tomorrow. You are very stressed out as it is, and I know that you miss Sasuke.” Itachi spoke to Mikoto like she would not understand what he meant if he spoke too fast.

Mikoto quirked an eyebrow. “What gives you such a notion?” Mikoto admittedly had not thought about her daughter since they had crossed the border yesterday.

“You have been staring pensively off into the distance for days,” Itachi said. “You have much on your mind.” If only he knew. Itachi turned her around by her shoulders and began to shoo her away. “Go, take a bath and then sleep.” Mikoto watched Itachi and Shikamaru descend stairs toward the dank chambers Shikamaru preferred for his working. She rolled her eyes to herself as she began climbing the stairs to her own chambers, but she figured that her son was right about one thing, at least. She needed a bath.

Mikoto asked her maid to help her move the tub toward the window, where she could watch the night breezes ruffle the leaves of the Nara forests. They were so vast, sometimes Mikoto forgot where they began and ended. They had been traveling through them for days now. She wondered what it was like, to live outside of four grand brick walls. She recalled vaguely running about the castle halls with her brother. Everything had seemed so much more vast in those days, so much newer. They played outside in the very courtyard attached to Mikoto’s room, careful not to get too muddy. Sometimes, Madara would call them forth and show them her swords and daggers in secret. Obito had always been more interested in their mother’s other weapons, like her longswords or her bows. Sasuke was a lot more like Madara than Mikoto was. She supposed it had not skipped her, it had simply moved to Obito. 

Mikoto frowned at her wet hands at the thought of her elder brother. The last she knew, he had been wed to Kushina’s much younger sister very briefly before going mad and running away. All of the reports and gossip said that he had met an untimely end in a crazed fight with water-people. Because he had died without ever meeting them, Mikoto had decided not to tell her children about him. He was a distant memory, now. It was a mundane way for the heir to both Senju and Uchiha to leave this life, but Mikoto could not say that she had shed too many tears. She had cried for a week, but then she had been wed to Fugaku, and became the queen. She suddenly had not had too many reasons in life to cry.

When her bath water was drained, Mikoto made her way down to the courtyard and found a place to sit amongst some flowers. They had not been here when the castle was constructed. They were planted in the memory of Madara after she had taken her last breath. Mikoto inhaled deeply the scent of them. The smell of Madara put Mikoto’s racing mind at peace, if only just for a moment. She thought calmly about Kushina. The pain would probably never subside, but Mikoto decided a little belatedly that for now, they were over the obstacle. She had no idea when she would see Kushina next, but she relished the idea that it may be soon. A summer was a long time when you’re counting the days, but Mikoto would make a point to _not_ count the days. She would immerse herself in telling Itachi what to do, instead. 

“Oh, for fool’s sake,” Mikoto mumbled to herself. She realized that while hers and her son’s birth dates drew incredibly near, so did Sasuke’s. Itachi would want to have some sort of grand event, or worse, _visit_. She did not appreciate Senju country for one second. Out of its millions of patrons, Mikoto cared only for one. And it was not her daughter.

Mikoto retreated back to her room just as the light of the first stars was beginning to fall upon her. It was a beautiful night. In her room, Mikoto felt the thing from earlier in the day trying to push itself to the front of her mind again. She cast her eyes about the low light of her room, with its huge windows and billowing curtains. This was her mother’s room, really. Mikoto could not have thought to have been placed in any other. Her eyes caught sight of the fireplace, and trailed slowly to the wall above it. It was her portrait, framed by gold that had been carved. There used to sit the portrait of Madara, her hair long and wild, grinning maniacally, holding her sceptre and with her crown sitting crooked on her head. Mikoto closed her eyes and wished for the past. It had been so much easier before everything had come crashing down. Mikoto and Kushina had been so very happy. Madara was still around to hold her, put a hand to her heart and tell her that it was only a matter of time before she had all the power that she had ever wanted. Obito was still around, and they’d read together, or run around, or play knights and princesses. Mikoto bit her lip. She wondered if Madara was watching her, somehow. She had the same thought about Obito. His young, excited face was the last thing she saw in her mind’s eye before she fell to sleep.

Itachi woke her up in the morning, like he always did. He waited for her to get dressed before they made their way to breakfast together. Mikoto attempted to make idle conversation, but this morning, Itachi seemed not to have any words. He simply nodded along with all of the things Mikoto said, until she eventually grew tired of talking to empty air. His eyes were tired. Mikoto was concerned and wondered what was on her son’s mind.

When the meal was over, Itachi told Mikoto that he needed to speak with her and Shikamaru. Mikoto grimaced at the idea of having to go down into the depths of the castle, but she obliged her king. Shikamaru was waiting for them in his office. There was no natural light, but the candles were bright enough that Mikoto could not rightly complain. The walls seemed to sweat. There were spiders and other creatures making their living in this hole. Mikoto did despise coming down here, even on business matters. No one would hear her if she yelled for help. She did not trust this Nara nearly as much as she had the last one.

Itachi offered Mikoto the one seat that Shikamaru had in his chambers. She begrudgingly accepted, though she held his arm so that he would stay close. “What is it, then? You have stressed my son out before the sun has even reached its pinnacle.”

Shikamaru’s eye twitched, but he otherwise remained as stoic as ever. “This is a matter of succession.” Shikamaru produced a letter from a drawer in his immaculate desk. He laid the paper out flat and slid it across the wooden surface so that Mikoto could read it.

_To my sister_ ,

_How long has it been? Twenty years, twenty one? I know that you thought I was dead, but I live. I breathe. I dream. I wish to know your children, particularly that son of yours. Has he enjoyed being the king, I wonder? Since his father’s untimely and mysterious death, it is a wonder that he has garnered so much love from the people._

_I wonder about you, too, sister. Do you remember me? Do you miss me? Mother would want us back together._

_And who am I to ever disappoint her? You and she had your differences, but I lived to please her._

_I do hope that you have a place for me. I am eager to catch a glimpse of what sort of changes two decades has made to our house._

_With the deepest of love,_

_Obito_

_p.s. I have a present for you! A grand surprise. Until then._

Mikoto frowned deeply at the words on the paper. She asked to see the envelope that it had been delivered in, but Shikamaru shook his head. “It was simply handed to a guard at the front gates of the palace,” he said.

“Well, who handed it? Any sort of description?” Mikoto crumbled the letter in a fist. It wasn’t real, it was a dream. A hallucination. Something she was imagining. Obito did not _live_ , he did not _breathe_. Dream? Wish? He was _dead_.

“A hooded figure, my queen,” Shikamaru said. “The only descriptor was that they had red hair the color of fire. My council and I have deliberated, and we have concluded that it would not be unlikely that this may be a culprit of Senju, or even Uzumaki blood.” Shikamaru took a seat at his desk and steepled his hands.

Mikoto scoffed. This could not have been the work of a Senju or an Uzumaki. That was… it was a farce. Mikoto shook her head and gazed up at Itachi to see what he thought. His face was grave. He looked like Fugaku when he expressed himself like that. Mikoto wished to reach up and smooth the lines forming on her son’s face.

“Mother,” Itachi said slowly. “You and I both know.” He knelt to her eye level and she turned her head away. “While we as a people try to make progress, it can never only go one way. The Senju have been resistant to all of our attempts at peace for centuries. Now, we are thriving. They do not want to see it. They would rather have this place laid flat to earth in fire and ruin before knowing that we have any ounce of success.”

“You—” Mikoto could not call her king wrong. She sighed in frustration. “I do not even know who this could be,” she lied. Years of covering up were not going to unravel now over some silly letter delivered with no seal by a red headed man. She could not let her son believe that an Uzumaki had sent this, but she could not reveal that she had a brother to him. It would bring his entire claim into question. Mikoto would die before she saw someone other than her son on that throne. She would kill them with her bare hands.

“You have no brothers,” Shikamaru agreed. Mikoto huffed out another sigh, though this time it was in relief. Shikamaru rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There is more, Your Highnesses.”

Itachi stood tall once more and gave a look of confusion. “More than we discussed last night?” 

Shikamaru nodded. “You were adamant that your mother know everything before we continue,” he reminded. Itachi digressed. “As per the order of the king, and the king before him, and the queen before _him_ , there are sentries posted in certain vantage points near the ancient Uchiha palace.” Itachi and Mikoto glanced at one another and then nodded. “A witness said that they saw a man with the colors of the swamp ride in on a deep grey horse. He seemed, at first, to be one of many thieves looking to comb through the debris for any sort of treasure.” 

“However?” Itachi asked. Mikoto found herself leaning forward. 

“However,” Shikamaru continued, “the witness later described the man’s magic as…” he scrambled to find a paper inside of the drawer. “They described its intensity as one of a volcanic eruption. Fire that they had never seen. The man destroyed a gigantic rock with a single blow of fire. They then said that he wielded something large in the air. They heard no words.” Shikamaru flicked his eyes up at Mikoto and Itachi before going back to reading over the account. “He had dark hair and eyes akin to vermilion. Does any such description strike you?”

Mikoto felt a stab in her chest. The thing that had been trying to force its way to the front of her mind was finally standing before all of her thoughts. It _was_ her brother. She glanced anxiously at Itachi, who still seemed as confused as ever. “No,” he shook his head before looking to Mikoto. “Do you know of any such person?”

Mikoto shook her head fast before taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I do not.”

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes at her, but she narrowed her right back, and he didn’t comment. “I suggest that this be taken into heavy consideration as a true threat to the throne,” he said. “I have nothing further.”

Itachi wanted to follow Mikoto into her chambers, but she refused. “I require silence to think,” she told him curtly. In her own chambers, Mikoto’s eyes were drawn once more to the wide expanse of the forest each time she passed the windows in her pacing. Where have you been? she thought. Obito, alive all this time? Without sending word? Mikoto worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It could be false. Perhaps it _was_ a conniving Senju, another plot to bring the Uchiha back down to size again.

But Mikoto’s mind kept falling back on the description of the perpetrator. Dark hair, eyes like vermilion? She knew that it was in their blood to possess the special sight, but she’d only ever known her mother and uncle to possess it.

Mikoto stopped pacing and fell to her knees in front of a window. “Obito,” she whispered, just as the wind whipped the leaves, “what are you _doing_?”


	7. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise!! next time i will add requirement(s)
> 
> happy birthday to one of the kings ((haha see what i’ve done there)) the lovely itachi. you deserved better, bubby!
> 
> the title is corny. so what.
> 
> reunited - peaches & herb

**_Itachi_ **

Only one day in all of Western Konoha was more important than the birth date of the queen mother Uchiha Mikoto.

That was the birth date of the king Itachi.

(Sasuke’s birthday was a close third.)

Mikoto, despite the way she presented, did not much enjoy frills when it came to celebrating the day of her birth. It only ever reminded her of how old she was, she would say, so why celebrate it?

“Because,” Itachi replied, “you have braved another four seasons.”

Mikoto would murmur something about, “miserable,” and Itachi would close the subject before she could lament about how long her life had been, how she had lived through war and how Itachi didn’t really know the meaning of true strife. Usually, Sasuke would be there to make Itachi laugh behind Mikoto’s back by mimicking her or mocking her tone of voice.

But this year, there was no Sasuke.

Itachi lay awake at night more times out of a week than he liked to admit, thinking about Sasuke. He had tried to argue with Mikoto until he had no more breath that she wasn’t ready to be married, much less to someone who held power over such a contentious relationship. “She is 21 years old,” Mikoto had snorted. They were talking over dinner on the dais in whispers that Sasuke couldn’t hear on his other side. “When I was her age, you were already born, and so was she. That notion is ridiculous.” Mikoto’s whispers were harsh.

“But she is not to be the queen, she is a princess,” Itachi had countered. He glanced at Sasuke out of the corner of his eye to see that she was devouring more of her fish and not paying either of them any kind of attention.

“Not with that kind of attitude from her king, she won’t.” Mikoto sat up straight and waved a hand. “Let her live a little,” she said. “If it doesn’t work, she’ll come crawling back.” In the end, it hadn’t really been his choice. Mikoto was sneaky. She sent the letter pretending to be him before he’d even woken up that morning, and had lightly told him about it when he went to wake her up. He couldn’t even be angry at her, really. She always got what she wanted, no matter who she had to go through.

Itachi was plagued with thoughts of Sasuke, but he now had other things to worry about. There were some strange happenings in the realm that couldn’t be explained away as coincidental. First, someone finds his grandmother’s gunbai after it had been declared destroyed in the ruins of the old palace, after the quakes had made the remaining walls tumble down over whatever was left. Then, _mysterious_ figures that were suspected to be of Senju or Uzumaki descent, were handing _shady_ letters to guards, letters with no stamps or addresses, letters that were signed by someone portending to have a surprise and calling themselves Mikoto’s brother. It was all preposterous, really. Mikoto didn’t have a brother, or surely she would have said something in the twenty three years of Itachi’s life. Twenty four next week. His mind kept running too fast to remember that.

If Mikoto had a brother, it would mean the entire royal family was in danger. Itachi had read plenty of books, he knew what happened when uncles came to claim their throne. Anyone standing in the way was cut down. Itachi, Mikoto, and Sasuke would all face death, plus anyone who supported them even after this Obito person had taken over. This country would never be the same. But that wasn’t going to happen, Itachi reasoned with himself. Because his mother did not have any brothers. She was the only child of queen Uchiha Madara. The only one. Someone would have _told_ him. At least when he’d assumed the throne from his father.

It would take three days for Sasuke and her betrothed to cross the border. Itachi was counting on Kushina coming, too, since she never let Naruto out of her sight. By that token, _Karin_ would also make the journey, because she never let her sister out of _her_ sight. It was all rather exhausting, but it would be well worth it. He could see Sasuke again after weeks, though it felt like it had been much longer. They had never been away from one another for so long. Itachi didn’t know how he’d function knowing Sasuke would be over _there_ , with Naruto, for the rest of her life if all went well.

Since the first news of the mysterious people was brought to him, Shikamaru had little else to report other than small infractions or nothings that were happening across the country. He told Itachi that a small village had been robbed of their… paint. He wasn’t sure what to make of that, or what he was meant to do about it. If the perpetrator could not be found, there would be no consequences. Closer to the border, there had been a sudden influx of magic activity of all sorts, as reported by the Yamanaka and the Hyuga. All five of the elements were accounted for, but there was also spirit magic afoot. “It may prove to put the people in grave danger,” Shikamaru had said.

“Has this magic been proven evil?” Itachi had asked sternly.

“Well, no, but—”

Itachi put up a hand. “Then do not exhaust resources on it. There are more timely things for the council to be worrying about.”

Shikamaru sighed angrily. “Like princess Sasuke’s journey over the border with her Senju escort? Yes. Much more important than someone galavanting with your most prized ancestral heirloom that was thought to have been destroyed a long time ago.”

Itachi narrowed his eyes. “I do not discount the importance of this crime,” he said grimly. “Someone laying their hands on my grandmother’s gunbai should surely be brought to punishment after explaining himself. But that will likely not happen for weeks, at least.” He sat back. “And in the meantime, my birthday is—”

“In 5 days, I do remember this.” Shikamaru took a steadying breath. “I do not mean to speak so roughly to you, Your Majesty,” he apologized with a slight bow. 

“It is forgiven. Now, tell me. Is Sasuke on her way, yet?”

“Now, hold on,” Shikamaru said hurriedly. “What of this business of your uncle?”

“I do not have an uncle,” Itachi said easily, just the way he’d been saying it to himself when he began to have doubts.

“But if you _did_ ,” Shikamaru said, “you will have to consider that this man may be plotting a usurpation.” 

Itachi scoffed. “We have eyes all over. The Hyuga are ever vigilant, as well as those in your family and the other vassals. They would have seen any sort of militia mobilizing by now.”

“It may not be a militia, my king,” Shikamaru pointed out. “As I have previously reported, there is spirit magic on the loose. Though we were certain that the last of this breed had died out or been sealed away, there is a survivor. This should cause you an ounce of concern.”

Itachi was silent. He could not lie and say that these words had not struck a slight panic in his heart. The last time he had known of someone who possessed spirit magic was in a book he’d read about a time before Madara and Izuna. He, too, had always been under the impression that the spirit-people were gone. That was for the better. Having the power to speak to those beyond this realm nearly always caused someone to go mad. While not inherently evil, there had historically never been a spirit-user that put their powers to good. He was quite certain that the increase of magic and Madara’s gunbai being stolen were not isolated events. Despite all the things he wanted to do (and they all had to do with Sasuke), he knew that he had to give this more time and attention. His life and those of the people he loved the most were at risk. 

Shikamaru and Itachi continued to discuss the business of the strange magic and shady letter dealing throughout the time that Itachi hoped Sasuke was journeying to him. Mikoto was adamant that she not be involved in any of this “scheming,” as she was calling it, because paranoia was contagious. If Sasuke just _had_ to come here, then let it be that Mikoto be presentable in both mind and soul. 

More news came in the days that followed. The magic of the gunbai had been followed to a cave network somewhere deep in the Nara forests, closer to the section that was delegated to the Inuzuka, before all traces vanished. Even the way that the scouts had come had been erased, and it was a hell of a time finding their way out of that dense forest again. Itachi decided that he would enlist Hatake Kakashi and Inuzuka Kiba onto the make-shift task force that he and Shikamaru were carefully crafting as they planned.

Though Sasuke would be with him in less than twelve hours, Itachi still found himself deep in the throes of planning. He could not sleep when evil was afoot, and certainly not evil that may wish to kill him. “So we will have you and I, Kakashi, Kiba… what’s this?” Shikamaru picked up the scroll on which Itachi had scribbled out their list and he frowned. He glanced at Itachi with slight confusion. “Hinata? But she is… of less skill than the others we are contacting.”

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have warned you about such talk,” he said sternly. “Though she does not possess the strength her cousin was lauded for, she is nothing to scoff at. I have seen her work, and I know that she can hold her own. So there will be none of _that_ sort of thinking.” Shikamaru grimaced but remained begrudgingly silent on the matter. 

Their list was not a long one, simply the Uchiha leaders and the leaders of their sworn men. Kiba was sworn to the crown of Senju, but this was a desperate matter. Itachi had written to Tsume, the former Lady of Inuzuka, asking her to send her son with the utmost of care that he not get caught coming across the border. He hoped that all of the chosen leaders could convene, as well as a few extra knights to aid in the fighting, should any ensue. Shikamaru assumed that since there was a spirit-user amongst them, it would only be a matter of time before they were locked in a battle. 

Itachi attempted vainly not to worry. He tried not to worry about himself, and the idea that this Obito might very well _kill_ him in the hopes of sitting the throne. He tried not to worry about Mikoto, and the fact that she’d either be forced to give up her claim inherited from Madara and in turn Itachi’s own, or else be imprisoned. Maybe even tortured. He tried not to worry about Sasuke, his dear sister, who would be caught in the crosshairs of two things she hadn’t chosen for herself; marrying Naruto and the dismantling of her family as she knew it. But he did worry about them, he worried about all of them. Eventually, though, his mind began to take new turns as he realized something.

Obito, if he was who he said he was, would have to _prove_ it. And how would he do that? Madara was gone, and whomever Obito claimed to be his father was likely gone, too. There would only be his word (and his birth document, if such a document existed) against Mikoto’s Itachi’s, and Sasuke’s. That thought gave Itachi enough solace that he could sleep through the night before his birth date. 

When he opened his eyes, Mikoto was standing over him with a grand smile and an outfit. “My prince, my love! Twenty four years, how mad is that!”

Itachi allowed Mikoto to do what she wanted; picking out his clothes, telling him what he ought to eat, what shoes he ought to wear. It was the simple things that made him happy, and that’s what a birth date is all about, in his mind. 

It was sweltering as they stood in wait for Sasuke and the rest of her escort. They were in a special plaza in the capital, meant for celebrations just as this. The plaza and the dais were decorated gallantly in Itachi’s favorite colors. Though the blacks and reds cast a gloom around his chambers, the day was bright and the crowd was full of life. Itachi and Mikoto, as well as Shikamaru and a few others of the council, were sitting up high on the stone dais, each surveying the people with bored eyes. When Itachi finally spotted her standing next to Naruto, pointing at things and laughing at others, Itachi felt his heart burst. She was _smiling_ , and already beginning to get a tan. Her hair was different than he’d ever seen it. He wondered if Kushina had helped with that. He was patient as she mounted the dias with Naruto’s help, and it was she who accosted him. Sasuke ran to her brother and threw her arms around his neck, while he wrapped his own around her middle. Naruto stood back awkwardly and watched as the two embraced. Sasuke said how much she missed Itachi, over and over. Naruto cleared his throat after a while, and that was when Itachi stood up straight.

“King Senju.” Itachi cleared his own throat and held his hand out. “Thank you deeply for allowing my sister to return home on such short notice, even in the midst of this… trial.” Naruto shook Itachi’s hand and nodded professionally.

“Of course,” Naruto replied good-naturedly. “What’s a birth date without the people you love?” At his side, Sasuke’s eyes were beams on Itachi’s heart. 

“I think about you every day,” Sasuke mumbled to Itachi as she was being herded to her seat at his side. Itachi didn’t think he could smile any wider.

As the feast commenced, Itachi’s eyes were perceptive as he surveyed this festival dedicated to his twenty four years of life. He narrowed his eyes at Karin, farthest down the table from him, as she cast furtive eyes around at the crowd. He turned his own eyes to Kushina then, who was swilling wine like she’d never had a drink in her life and waving her hands around as she discussed something passionately. Mikoto was next to Kushina. She had her chin in her hand, hanging off of every word Kushina said. He had always had his suspicions about Mikoto, but he was far too afraid to ask her about her business. It was her world, her kingdom, and he just did what she said.

Itachi also could not help but notice the way that Sasuke’s mouth turned down when Naruto stopped looking at her, or when she thought that no one was watching. He felt a strange twist in his heart when he realized that she was faking. There was singing and dancing, good food and merriment, but Sasuke was _sad_ and Itachi could tell. Naruto was oblivious to Sasuke’s growing melancholy, and it only served to make Itachi even more distraught. 

Mikoto pulled Itachi to the side while the singers were making a show of honoring him. Naruto clapped next to Sasuke, whose own face was rather blank unless she thought he was looking. 

“Why do you frown so?” Mikoto whispered harshly. “You are the one always trumpeting the wonders and possibilities of birth dates. Suddenly you do not cherish this day?”

Itachi scrubbed the toe of his fancy shoe against the stone of the great dais. “I do cherish it, Mother,” he said weakly. He had always been a terrible liar, though, and now Mikoto was narrowing her eyes. 

“Do stand before me and tell me untruths,” Mikoto whispered angrily. “You are my first born child. I know that you tell me lies.”

Itachi sighed deeply. He cut his eyes to the singers, who had captured the attention of the entire audience, before looking upon his mother’s own fierce eyes with wariness. “I worry about the letter received,” Itachi said. 

Mikoto clicked her tongue. “You have been worrying over that for days now. Surely you can put it out of your mind?” She was a bit shaky as she spoke. The end of her sentence was edging on frantic.

“Would that I could, Mother,” Itachi said. “It is just so strange—”

Mikoto shook her head fast. Her dark tresses fell over her shoulders haphazardly. “No,” she said flatly. “We will not discuss this here. You need to _eat_ , and enjoy yourself. Imagine how proud your father would be, his little prince all grown up.” Mikoto’s hand came out to touch Itachi’s face, and he sighed again.

“Fine,” he conceded. She knew that he would. 

When he resumed his seat, Sasuke leaned close and whispered to him. “What does the witch want with you now? Can it not wait until tomorrow, at least?”

Itachi shook his head. “She is your mother, Sasuke,” he scolded. “She wonders why I do not smile, but I wonder the same about you,” Itachi said. At the mention of her attitude, Sasuke looked away.

“I am smiling, I am happy,” Sasuke said. She was imploring him to believe her, but she knew better. 

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” Itachi said to her, just as he was being called to stand. 

“Please, my king,” Mikoto shouted from across the dais, “come and carve your cake!”

Itachi did particularly enjoy cake. He pushed his chair back and made his way across the stone. So close to the edge, he could see the people he ruled over as they had gathered to watch him celebrate. He smiled graciously at them as Mikoto adjusted his crown. “Cut it, cut it!” she willed him aloud. A chant caught on like a wildfire until the platform was shaking with calls for him to cut his cake. When he sliced the first piece, a cheer erupted from the crowd. He gave it to his sister, who flashed him a sincere smile. Itachi decided to actually try to stop worrying so much, at least for today.

  
  
  


“Now, tell me what she wanted from you!” Sasuke was laid out dramatically on Itachi’s black sheets. His red-accented pillows were beneath her arms as she waited impatiently for Itachi to spill what was on his mind. She had snuck in here as soon as the sun had fallen down from the sky and been replaced by the moon. Itachi had been upset, at first, but he could not turn her away. Though he worried just slightly about Naruto trying to find her.

“You are supposed to be with your husband,” Itachi said sternly.

Sasuke sat up fast and snorted. “Husband? One must be a man first. He is still but a boy. And he does not know how to handle me,” she added with a slight roll of her eyes. “Anyway,” she held a pillow to her chest as she sat crisscross, “do stop trying to change the subject. Why did the woman pull you away?”

Itachi grit his teeth. Now was not the time to tell Sasuke all of the things that had been happening. She would journey back to Senju country in a week, and she would have to pretend not to know such a burning piece of information as this. Itachi didn’t want to do that to her, put that stress on her. She was smart, smarter than him, so it wasn’t a matter of her speaking the words to someone who did not need to hear them. It was the matter of the information driving her mad and causing her to act in ways she wouldn’t if she didn’t know.

But… 

He could not lie to her. It was his largest, most glaring flaw. Whatever she asked, he was bound by some force of the universe to tell her. He’d only ever kept one secret from her successfully, and that had only been for a few weeks.

“You must promise not to speak this to anyone, if I decide to tell you,” Itachi said. 

Sasuke leaned closer, so close that she was nearly hanging off the bed. She held onto one on the black wooden posts for support. “Oh, please, brother. My king,” she corrected herself. “Tell me, I beg of you.”

Itachi grumbled to himself at his own inability to keep things from her. What would he tell her if not this? He hadn’t had a lie prepared. He hadn’t expected her to ask so soon after it had actually happened. He hadn’t even thought she’d seen it happen. Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d just leave out the details.

“In your absence, there have been strange events occurring,” Itachi said carefully. “We received anonymous word from someone, and we are keeping our eyes on the situation.”

Sasuke’s eyebrows drew together. She looked around the room as though she would find the right words to say lying around on the floor, or hanging from the wall. “What sort of strange events?”

“Events to do with magic,” Itachi said.

“Brother,” Sasuke said in her sternest tone possible, “it is not nice to keep secrets.” Her voice changed so that she was pleading when she asked, “And why do you suddenly attempt to keep things from me?”

“It isn’t like that, my princess, I—”

“Soon enough I will not be your princess,” Sasuke said, shaking her head sadly. “You have all of a sudden decided that your mind is a better dwelling place for things that may have to do with me.”

“How would you know that this has to do with you?” Itachi asked suspiciously. He would recognize this tactic from Sasuke within seconds in a dark room with nothing but her voice to guide him. She was trying to guilt him into telling her. But there was something in her eyes that told Itachi why. Though she feigned sadness, it was in the way she cut her eyes to him when she was finished talking that made Itachi suddenly aware of what she was doing.

“I… don’t _know_ , I’m just guessing, and I—”

“ _Sasuke_ ,” Itachi said through his gritted teeth, “you already know what I am alluding to.” His question was a statement.

Sasuke huffed. “Oh, fine,” she conceded. “Do you think that Naruto wouldn’t tell me these things? He has the loosest lips since Father.” Sasuke rolled her eyes again and threw the pillow at Itachi’s face, but he dodged it easily from where he sat in his grand black chair that he used for his ‘thinking.’ He just liked to sit in it because it was big and almost as comfortable as the bed.

“What does he know?” It was Itachi’s turn now to lean forward.

“Uh.” Sasuke looked up to the canopy as she thought. She counted on her fingers as she went, something she’d always been doing to steady herself. “He said that Grandmother’s big fan was found in our— their country,” Sasuke began. Her slip of tongue was not lost on Itachi, but he did not mention it and instead let her finish. 

“Lots of magic around the borders, someone named Ino came to report that to him,” Sasuke continued. “And he says that Kushina is worried about something called spirit magic. I’ve only ever read about that in books. Is it real?”

“I could say the same,” Itachi said, “so I don’t know…?” His voice trailed off and turned up at the end in response to a creak at his door. Sasuke reached beneath Itachi’s bed and drew a thin sword from the skirt. He didn’t have time to wonder _how_ or _when_ she’d put it there because Naruto fell on his face as the door gave beneath his leaning. 

“Naruto!” Sasuke was up off the bed in an instant and standing over Naruto with her fist on her hip. 

Naruto sat up and rubbed his head. “I do not mean to intrude, Your Highness,” he said tiredly to Itachi.

“Well, you are,” Sasuke said. She refrained from holding the sword at Naruto as Itachi stood and strode over to the two of them.

“What is it that you are after, then, if not intrusion?” Itachi waited for Naruto to stand up before he asked his question.

“I was looking for my fiancé,” Naruto said gruffly. “I thought she might be in here with you.”

Sasuke gave Naruto an exasperated look. Itachi cleared his throat to draw her attention from him. “Sister,” he said, “put that away.” He motioned toward her thin blade, which she seemed to have forgotten that she was carrying. He turned to Naruto then. “She is here with me, and she is safe. You are one room over. She will make it to you. And in the meantime,” Itachi took a step closer, crowding into Naruto’s space, “you can go back over there, and not get any ideas about what sort of night this will be when she returns to you.” Itachi watched as Naruto’s eyes flicked from his face to where Sasuke stood behind him. “You don’t want me to tell the guards that we have an eavesdropper, do you?” Itachi asked. “We do not take kindly to people trying to steal our secrets.”

Naruto did not seem inclined to leave without Sasuke, at first, but something in Itachi’s eyes told Naruto that this was serious. Seriously not his business. “I hope that she will return to me sooner rather than later. There are things that I would like to discuss with her.” Itachi’s mind went to the letters that were still going out to Naruto’s vassals without his permission, and he pressed his lips together.

Naruto left without more words, and as soon as the door was closed behind him, Sasuke’s shoulders sagged. “Exhausting, that stupid boy,” she murmured. She returned to her place on Itachi’s bed, and he resumed his seat in his big chair. 

“Does he treat you well?” Itachi asked.

“Well enough,” Sasuke said. She was examining her sword carefully to avoid eye contact. When she felt that his eyes were still on her, she sighed. 

“You do not enjoy your time in the sunny Senju country?” Itachi asked, concerned.

“It is not that,” Sasuke said slowly. “More, it is that I feel out of place. I do not know anyone, I do not have any interests in common with king Naruto or queen mother Kushina. Who hates me, I should add.”

“I am aware of this,” Itachi said. “Do you _try_ to find things in common with them?”

Sasuke placed the sword down carefully before crossing her arms with great force. “Why should I try to find things in common with them when I’m stuck there? They may as well try to get to know _me_. I do not desire to know anything about Senju Kushina or Karin.” She rolled her eyes particularly hard at the mention of Naruto’s aunt.

“So you’re telling me that you have found _nothing_ to keep yourself interested?” 

Sasuke’s eyes traveled the room before they fell to Itachi’s again. This, this mischief. This was what Itachi was used to. 

“I may have found _one_ thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sasuke’s adventures in senju-land coming soon


	8. Bubbly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requirement #8 fulfilled:  
> “There’s nothing you can do about it. Go.”
> 
> ((with a little creative license))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a long while working on this, but everyone seems to love princess sasuke.
> 
> it’s me i’m everyone
> 
> bubbly - colbie caillat

**_Sasuke_ **

It took four sighs before Naruto looked up from his reading to pay Sasuke some attention. 

“Why do you huff like that?” Naruto seemed relieved to have a distraction from the words he was meant to be reading; Sasuke had noticed that he rarely read, and when he did, he struggled.

Sasuke was laying out on a chaise in Naruto’s room, his real one. It was bigger than hers at home, and overlooked the ocean with a better view than the temporary chambers Sasuke had been delegated for the first week or so of her stay. The colors were blue and white, with the smallest twinges of gold mixed in. “A lot of it was my mother’s,” he’d said the first time he showed Sasuke the room. She could just barely see the other end of it from where she stood. It took up nearly the entire floor. There were so many places that she was already planning to hide blades. Sasuke mostly enjoyed sitting in the window before Naruto woke up and watching the waves in their relentless search for the sand. In the mornings before the sun was over the horizon, Sasuke thought about home, and the future.

Sasuke could not believe that she was meant to _sleep_ in here with Naruto. In the same _bed._ When he had chimed in to tell her that they’d already done that once, Sasuke curled her lip at him and willed him to be quiet. She vaguely remembered it, but she had gotten drunk on purpose that night. She hadn’t wanted to be able to think about Itachi, or even Mikoto, leaving her here. 

She never thought that she would miss her mother the way she did. She missed everything about home. It was so much cooler, and damper. The heat here was dry and it always made Sasuke’s hair stick to the back of her neck. She had friends at home (though she thought that her chamber-keepers feared her more than they loved her, they still listened to her when she spoke). The worst part of this was that there was no Itachi. There was no one to bother the way she bothered him, or to confide in, or to look up to. There was only Naruto, his vile relations, and their constant complaining about her temperament. 

“I am _bored,_ Naruto,” Sasuke complained. She held her arm over her eyes to shield from the unyielding sun. It just would not quit. She had noticed the lines on her skin that clearly showed where her clothes ended and began. She didn’t like it. “Must I sit in here all day with you while you are silent, waiting for a word?”

“You may find my mother or my aunt, I am busy,” Naruto offered before turning his eyes back to the letters he was reading.

“I would rather pitch myself from this tower,” Sasuke replied. 

“Why do you make no effort to have at least a neutral relationship with either of them?” Naruto sounded exasperated. “They will be related to you someday, you and our children.” 

“You and this idle prattle of children.” Sasuke rolled her eyes beneath her arm. Naruto was determined and very sure that he and Sasuke would somehow produce at least three children. It baffled Sasuke, the grand plans he had for the two of them as a family. They barely knew one another, and he had already laid out the next fifteen years of their lives. “We _are_ children, and this world is mad. What good would it do a child to exist in times like this?”

“Times like what? We are at peace,” Naruto pointed out. Sasuke heard him coming closer, and she sat up just in time to see him attempting to sit near her. Her eyes trailed to the desk that he had just been sitting at, where she had stashed a small knife in a drawer. She looked to his face again when he reached for her hands. It was at times like this that she nearly forgot to be snide. He was a beautiful young man, so fair in face and attitude. He endured all of her abuse and was still interested in the slightest things she did; the smallest twists of her wrists as she wrote, the books she chose to read when there was idle time, the faces she made as she listened to the common people beg him for funds or mercy. It was infuriating, really, that for all of her insults he came back with ten more compliments. How was she supposed to continue on trying to hate him and find the worst in this situation when he was so _nice_ to her?

“Will you at least tell me what you’re reading?” Sasuke asked the question quickly to avoid whatever sentimental words Naruto was going to try to say. 

“The letters?” Naruto turned his head toward the desk again. “I’m not sure how interested in that you’d be. It’s political.”

“I enjoy politics,” Sasuke replied. She shooed Naruto away and then moved to the side when he came back with the papers.

“Well. I was hoping you could… help me read it?” Naruto’s voice and eyes were hopeful. Sasuke felt her stupid heart warming at Naruto’s expression. “The letters are scrambling and some of the sentences don’t make any sense no matter how many times I read them.”

Sasuke took the papers delicately from Naruto’s hands and scoured the first of them. “This is from one of your vassals, Lady Tenten of the Seal Valley… she wants to know when the new shipment of… _intense exploding tree seeds_ will be sent. She’s asked twice now, this is her final notice before she sends a delegate.” Sasuke looked to Naruto’s face with confusion. “Exploding tree seeds? This country is so exotic.” She shook her head.

Naruto sucked his teeth. “Oh, gods. I thought she was asking about seeds for food trees. What a waste of seeds.” Naruto pushed a hand into his hair, stressed. “Ok. What’s the next one say?”

Sasuke read off the letters slowly, one by one. One was from Kakashi, asking why he was sent _bombs_. “Damn it,” Naruto mumbled. One was from Ino, describing more of the magic at the border, now including the use of spirit magic. News of the ancient Uchiha heirloom was still pending, but Ino said that this wasn’t something to be taken lightly. She would be coming from her seat at Yamanaka Hall to discuss the matter with him soon.

“Ancient Uchiha heirloom? What does that mean?” Sasuke held the papers away from Naruto when he tried to get to them. His face was close to hers, but she ignored that and instead focused on keeping him from snatching from her.

“Gah, ok,” Naruto grumbled in defeat. “There has been news that a certain artifact has been extracted from the ruins of your ancestral palace.” 

“Those are nice words to say that something belonging to my family has been stolen,” Sasuke said. She read over the words a few more times now that Naruto had calmed down and stopped trying to take the papers from her. “What is it? You seem to know.”

Naruto was hesitant to tell her. “I’m not sure how much a consort should know… and we aren’t even married—”

“It will be practice for me to keep your secrets. Isn’t that one of the tenets of a good wife, like you said?” Sasuke leaned closer to Naruto. “Please?”

Pressing his lips together, Naruto blew a hard breath out of his nose. “I have heard stories of the fan your grandmother used to wield. It’s been stolen by some mystery man. We’ve lost the trail since the first news was broken.”

Sasuke flew from where she sat, her under-clothes flowing as she stood. “My grandmother? Someone has stolen her gunbai?! And it didn’t reject them?” Sasuke was at a loss. She bit down on her fingernails as she began pacing. Who could have found it, who would know where it was? She had been under the impression it was destroyed, anyway. Who could be so powerful that they could sense the secret magic of the gunbai, that they could touch it and not have instantly been cursed or something?

“Was there absolutely no description of this man?” Sasuke stood in front of Naruto and tapped her foot impatiently.

“Dark hair, strange glowing eyes. He sounded more like a beast than a man.” Naruto rubbed his chin as he spoke. Sasuke fell back onto the chair next to him and frowned.

“I have no idea whom it could be,” Sasuke mumbled in angry defeat. She didn’t like not knowing what was going on. She was so lost in her thoughts that at first, she did not hear Naruto attempting to read the last letter. 

“My… princess,” Naruto was still having a hard time finding a title that didn’t elicit a glare from Sasuke, so his voice was wary, “it is from your brother.” 

Sasuke ripped the paper from Naruto’s hand. “Itachi? What does it say?”

“That’s the only part I could read before you interrupted me with your theatrics,” Naruto said. 

Sasuke ignored this comment and instead went ahead with reading the letter. “To the king Senju… please accept this, my invitation to a celebration of my life. Twenty four years, blah blah, six years on the throne, mm hmm… here, yes,” Sasuke said. She held the letter in front of Naruto’s face. “He wants us to journey to the capital so that we may be present to help him celebrate. And he hopes that we stay for a while.” Sasuke held the papers close to her heart and sighed out deeply before reaching for Naruto’s hands. “Please, please can we stay a while? A week, even? I miss my brother with every fiber of my being.”

Naruto bit his lip. “A week? My sweetest, I have _work_ to do, important things that need my attention. Not to mention, my mother would certainly like to accompany me, and her sister will want to accompany _her._ So much… what is the word? Planning.”

Sasuke crossed her arms. “He is the king,” she pointed out. “His request is only a courtesy. He expects us there. Don’t you know this? It would look atrocious if we do not attend.”

Naruto looked to the side. “I knew that.” 

A knock on the door drew both of their attention from their conversation. “My son, is Sasuke with you?” It was Kushina. Sasuke rolled her eyes toward the window as a salt breeze blew the sky-blue curtains open.

“Yes,” Naruto called to the door. “Do you request her presence?”

“Not me,” Kushina scoffed. “Master Jiraiya would like to know if she would, um. Fancy a meeting.” 

Sasuke hummed as if she really had to think about it. Within a few minutes she was dressing in her loosest fitting blouse and trousers. Naruto watched her carefully as she laced her blouse in the front, and he stood to offer his unnecessary help in tying her pants on the side. “It is so rare to see a woman wearing something that doesn’t flow,” Naruto remarked. 

“Whatever do you mean? This shirt does flow.” Sasuke turned in a quick circle and Naruto laughed. 

“Will you be back soon?” Naruto held Sasuke’s hair up while she tied it into a loose bun, and then he caught hold of Sasuke’s face before she could process that his hands had shifted. “I want to spend time with you.”

“Naruto,” Sasuke grumbled, “we do nothing but sit in here and look at one another. Don’t you tire of my plain face? And didn’t you say you have work to do?” Sasuke averted her eyes from Naruto’s. She found that if she looked at them for too long, she began to forget where she was or what she’d been thinking about.

“Your face is not plain,” Naruto said, as though that was the point. Sasuke fidgeted under his hands until he sighed and released her. “You don’t get yourself too hurt. You wouldn’t want to be injured as we travel to your brother.”

Sasuke reached up and slung her arms around Naruto’s neck. She hugged him tight and it took him no time to return her embrace. For good measure, Sasuke pressed her lips chastely to Naruto’s cheek as she pulled away from him. “I won’t be too long,” she promised. 

Being escorted to the training grounds by Naruto’s mother was annoying. She was silent, but judgmentally so, in that she was waiting for Sasuke to say something only so that she could disapprove of it. Eventually, Sasuke commented on the weather, and Kushina grudgingly replied that it was nice out today. 

Kushina watched over Sasuke and Naruto carefully. Much too carefully. She inspected Naruto whenever she hadn’t seen him for a few hours, and was always making a loud show to ask him if he was pleased with Sasuke's progression. “Is it about time we send her back, then?” was her favorite thing to ask. Sasuke wasn’t sure what Kushina thought she was doing to her precious son, but she was mistaken if it had anything to do with that _bed_ they had to sleep in. Sasuke still did her very hardest to keep Naruto’s hands off of her even in friendly gestures (and she said that it was because she despised him, or at least just didn’t know him well enough, but it was really because his fingertips put her mind in a fog).

“Do not make a habit of this,” Kushina said finally after more silence. Her strides were longer than Sasuke’s, but only by a tad. It was easy to keep up with her pace. 

“A habit of what, queen mother?” Sasuke asked sweetly.

Kushina glared hot green in Sasuke’s direction. “This, this couth-less activity. Swordplay is unbecoming of a woman and I will not have it known that my son’s consorting with a make-believe _knight_.”

Sasuke snorted. “A knight, for this army? I am capable of sweeping each and every one of your _wind_ soldiers onto their backsides.” They reached the rampant arch that led to the training grounds. Sasuke turned to face Kushina and offered her a saccharine smile. “If swordplay is so unbecoming, why did your father tell such great tales of my grandmother’s abilities? Seems it becomes some.” Sasuke turned on her heel then, ignoring the indignant look that was settling onto Kushina’s features, and greeted Jiraiya with a wider and more sincere smile.

Jiraiya bowed and kissed Sasuke’s hand. “Princess,” he said with a serious face, though his tone betrayed his playfulness. Sasuke turned her head to see whether or not Kushina still stood where Sasuke had left her.

“She’s gone,” Sasuke whispered. Jiraiya’s face broke into a grin and he clapped his hands together.

“Oh, it’s been so long! Now, tell me, have you been practicing at home?” Jiraiya’s voice and face were jovial. After she nodded, he left Sasuke where she stood to go to a rack where wooden swords were kept. 

Sasuke screwed up her nose at it when Jiraiya returned. “Wood, master? I spar with steel blades.” She looked down her nose at the playsword that he had brought to her. “This simply will not do.”

Jiraiya pursed his lips for a moment before his smile returned. “I should have expected as much from Madara’s granddaughter. Wait here.”

Sasuke was impatient as Jiraiya slipped into the armory to find her something more suitable. She was staring idly about her at the various levels of fighting going on. Some of these men were quite deft in their abilities with both magic and weapons. Others were better at one than the other, and there were still some that Sasuke saw needed work in every department of combat. She was sure glad that she had worn pants, at least. The regality of a dress had no place in the kicked-up dirt and ashen air that she was in the midst of right now. 

In the time she spent alone, she thought about Naruto. She did a lot of thinking about him lately, and it was causing her great internal grief. _No_ , she would tell herself, _he is not so dreamy as the way your mind makes him seem._ He was still a fool, and Sasuke always told herself she would do good to remember it. But… he was so sweet, and when her guard was down he caressed her in a way that made her heart feel fragile. She wondered what punishment Itachi would have laid out for him if he weren’t the king. Death, by now. It made Sasuke snicker to think about it, but then her smile turned from her brother to her betrothed again. Naruto was wiggling his way into her heart like a rot. The only parts of Sasuke that held onto her semblance of dignity when he was around were the parts that remembered he was of wind-origin, and that he was, in his base state, a _man_. And she had learned all about the perils of men from her grandmother.

Jiraiya returned once again, this time brandishing a real blade. Sasuke squealed when he handed it to her by its handle. “I don’t let just any page play with this,” he said sagely, and Sasuke grinned wickedly.

“It’s a good thing I’m not just any page then, right?” 

Sasuke was a bit rusty. She at least remembered how to stand and how to hold the sword, thankfully. Standing directly in front of Jiraiya, they each tapped their swords in the space between them before taking three steps backwards. Sasuke felt the adrenaline beginning to flow like fire in her veins when Jiraiya first lunged at her. She dodged him easily and swung back behind him, coming up faster than he expected her to.

Sasuke was just barely able to parry Jiraiya’s slashes a few times, but she managed not to get any cuts on her before she swirled and tapped Jiraiya on his shoulder with the point of her sword. She sliced a wisp of his hair off, and held it up proudly right before he came at her with little mercy. “Would you lay a cut to your future queen?” Sasuke shouted, and Jiraiya’s only reply was maniacal laughter. She wondered what Madara would do if she could see her right now. The other sparring pages had long stopped their workouts and were watching Sasuke and Jiraiya with all different manner of expressions. Some were genuinely intrigued, and some tried to hide it. Some were grimacing, and still there were a few who watched with their arms crossed and frowns playing on their lips. Jiraiya and Sasuke danced with their blades as if no one was watching, though, and Sasuke was sweating by the time Jiraiya called for them to stop.

“Any further and you would stab a hole in my side,” Jiraiya wheezed. He was stooped down, his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Sasuke dug the point of her sword into the dirt as she stood over him. 

“Don’t you fancy another round, old man?” Sasuke smirked. Jiraiya shook his head fast. 

“Oh, no, my princess. You are exceptional with your blade.” Jiraiya forced himself to standing. “I commend you. Don’t slack on your practicing, though, or this old man may one day find a way to best you!” 

Sasuke shook her head and laid a hand on Jiraiya’s shoulder. “Thank you, master,” she said sincerely.

“Do you require any help on your way back to the king?” Jiraiya was still slightly out of breath, but he still offered Sasuke his hand as she handed back the practice sword. 

“That’s quite alright, master,” Sasuke said with a slight shake of her head. “How will I ever know where anything is if I don’t get lost a few times?” Jiraiya frowned deeply at this, but Sasuke was already on her way. 

In truth, there were things she wanted to think about that she didn’t want to be betrayed on her face. She wanted time and peace of mind so that she may work through the things she’d heard from the letters she’d read with Naruto that morning. Sasuke knew the general way back up to Naruto, but she had already spent the entire morning with him. And, yes, she had promised that she wouldn’t be gone too long. But that was just the spell that his eyes had cast on her speaking with her voice. Now that she had this fighting spirit within her, she did not desire to return to Naruto so quickly and without qualm. 

As Sasuke began to explore the lower levels of the castle, she thought about what Lady Yamanaka had penned in her letter. Madara’s gunbai had been stolen. This was already a cause of great concern for Sasuke, because she had been sure that the thing had been destroyed. If it hadn’t, then it belonged to the royal family by default. Who would put their life on the line like this to steal from the Uchiha, knowing that they were outmatched? And who possibly could have had the strong enough sense in the first place to know that they would find it, and where? It was worrying, and Sasuke’s mind could barely wrap around that as it were. The part that she especially hated was that Naruto had clearly already known this. He had been made aware that the artifact had gone missing, and he hadn’t told her. Why wouldn’t he tell her? She understood her position as someone who, at this point in the… courtship, would not be privy to every single word Naruto read in a day. She also knew that as the person at Naruto’s side, she was there to help him, for him to confide in. This was her family, anyway. She was Uchiha in heart, mind, and blood, and Naruto knew that. The only reason Sasuke suspected she hadn’t known about this information sooner was Naruto’s hovering mother. 

Kushina had always had it out for Sasuke, and she had never been able to put her finger on why. She claimed to have ill will toward both Itachi and Sasuke, but her actions spoke differently. Maybe it was the fact that Itachi was the king, or that he was a boy, but Kushina was nothing but respectful to him, in the very least. She showed him no extra love past the common courtesy one would show a monarch. Sasuke, however, had to grovel at the woman’s feet for the slightest semblance of respect. And she refused to do that, so they were in a stalemate.

As she walked, Sasuke’s mind was distracted from her thoughts by the beauty of the castle. Where Sasuke now stood was an overgrown courtyard with a fountain in the middle, though it was dry. The place was crawling with weeds and there was a sheet of pollen in the air that made Sasuke choke and her eyes water, but it was still so gorgeous. There were wildflowers of all assorted colors, springing up in patches. Sasuke felt something in her heart singing as she took a few steps into the grass. 

Footsteps behind her made Sasuke turn fast on her heel. She didn’t see who was approaching, but she dove into the grass preemptively. Only the very top of her head peaked out above the tall grass as she stumbled towards the fountain to hide behind it. She heard the voices of Kushina and Karin and fought the urge to sneer. 

“… see the look on his face when he leaves her. It’s already setting in.” Karin sounded exasperated. Sasuke knew just from her tone of voice that she was the topic of discussion. She gave a small hmph as she listened.

“I do see it, don’t you think I see it? It’s poison, just like you said,” Kushina said back. They were walking briskly, and in just a few minutes they would be out of earshot again. Kushina’s long green dress flowed graciously behind her as she strode through the breezy colonnade. 

“So what will you do?”

“Is there anything that can be done?” Kushina’s voice was gruff.

Karin scoffed. “Of course there is. It is so simple, it boggles me that you have not given it any thought.”

They stopped walking then when Kushina halted in her tracks. Sasuke could just barely make out Karin’s face as Kushina spoke harshly to her. “You are correct in your presumption that I do not want my son’s heart broken by that… _girl,_ ” Kushina said. Sasuke could hear the emotion in her voice. She looked down at her hands for a moment before shaking her head and looking towards the two red-heads again. “But you are mistaken and a fool if you think for one second that I will ever do something so. So heinous. Incongruous. I will not lay a hand on Mikoto’s child. What would happen if they find out that I, or _you_ ,” Kushina jabbed a finger at her sister, “were playing foul? We’d be killed before we even made it across the border. The people’s princess. Do you want to die because of her? Or do I have to tell you in more certain terms?”

Karin’s eyes averted from Kushina’s as she glared off to the side. Sasuke knelt down a little farther so as not to be noticed just as Karin sighed. “Do not bother,” she said in defeat. “You make yourself abundantly clear.” 

“Good. So now you see that there’s nothing I can do about it, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Go on, now, and tell Naruto that he needs to get to his day-sleep or else he’ll be in a mood.” Kushina dismissed her sister without another glance in her direction. Sasuke bit her lip to keep from laughing at the mention of Naruto’s day-sleeping. He was truly cranky when he did not take his daily repose. Sasuke hated that it made her feel warm to think about it, she didn’t need to be distracted. Kushina and Karin had been discussing _her_ , and in very unfriendly terms. Sasuke watched as Karin stomped away from her sister in the direction they’d come. Kushina, meanwhile, continued on at her brisk pace. Sasuke still wasn’t very familiar with the layout of the castle, so she didn’t know where Kushina might be going, but she still watched with narrow eyes as Kushina disappeared from her view. 

Sasuke waited a few minutes before she extracted herself from her hiding spot. She was so confused about what Kushina had said. She had been under the impression that they were enemies, because of the way Kushina treated her. Sasuke was simply matching her energy; she had no real problem with Kushina except that Kushina had a problem with her. But here she was, defending Sasuke against a murder attempt. Of course, her reasoning to her sister made sense, but there was something in Kushina’s tone that indicated to Sasuke that she didn’t know the whole story. Sasuke sighed. She was quite unlucky that this shirt was black, because now it was covered in grass. “Oh, well,” she mumbled to herself as she attempted vainly to dust off her blouse. “He won’t know the difference.”

Naruto was staring out the window when Sasuke finally returned, huffing and out of breath. At least the sun was still up, so she didn’t have to worry about him trying to coax her to the bed for _storytime_ quite yet. “You were so long.” His voice was sad, but then his eyes caught sight of her clothes and some mirth returned. “Seems the old man knocked you flat,” he said. Naruto struggled to a standing position as Sasuke took the tie out of her hair. 

“You smell like grass,” Naruto remarked when he’d drawn closer. Sasuke felt him, felt his eyes on her. _Be strong,_ she told herself. Sasuke took a ginger step back from where Naruto had begun to crowd into her space. “Did you have fun?” He reached a hand into the space that she had created between them. 

Sasuke was taken aback by Naruto’s question. Only her brother had ever asked her if she was actually interested in the things she was required to do, and only her brother had made sure that she enjoyed herself at least some of the time. She knew that Naruto didn’t have to let her go and play with the swords; no matter what she said about Madara, Sasuke knew that not very many people in her position were allowed that privilege. She was grateful to Naruto for letting her do something she enjoyed. She just wished that her heart would stop making this _noise_ when he looked at her with earnest like this.

“Um, yes,” Sasuke said eloquently. She took his hand. “The most fun I’ve had since I got here.” Naruto made a face at this, so Sasuke quickly amended her statement with, “Except for listening to your tales!” This satisfied him enough to send him back to where he’d been gazing out the window. Sasuke took his silence as an invitation to join him, because he was only ever quiet when he was thinking about the right things to say.

“You frown so much lately,” Naruto said quietly. “Do you truly not enjoy being here?” He turned his head to look at her, but she kept her eyes on the waves.

Sasuke was silent for a moment. “I miss the things I’ve always known,” she said eventually.

“Do you remember a time when you didn’t know me?” Clever. Sneaky.

“I don’t know you right now,” Sasuke pointed out. She finally turned her head to meet Naruto’s eyes after steeling herself against the flood of emotions that he always tried to pour into her with his expressions. “There’s only an image of you in my mind. I’ll have to fill in all the blanks all over again, and I miss familiarity. I miss my brother, and I miss the books in the library and the wines and the dogs that would run across the grounds.” Sasuke looked to her lap then and tried not to sniff too hard. “It isn’t you,” she admitted to him and to herself. Naruto was the _only_ good thing about being in this awful country full of people who would much rather she was dead.

“That’s what this trial is for,” Naruto said. He held her chin gently in his hand so that she would look at him, but she still cast her eyes out the window. “I won’t hide anything from you.”

Sasuke frowned at this. Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head free of Naruto’s hold. “Then why didn’t you tell me about the gunbai? You know that I would want to know something like that. It’s a matter of my life.”

It was Naruto’s turn to look away. He was quiet again, and Sasuke did her best to be patient with him. She knew that he never meant her any harm, not on purpose. “I am the king,” he said, his voice strong. “I must know when to say certain things and when to keep certain things to myself.” Naruto’s shoulders sagged. “That’s what my mother says, anyway.”

Sasuke resisted the urge to curl her lip. “She does not know everything,” she said.

“Neither do you, or I. And she knows more than me, so I’ll take my chances.”  
  


The journey to the Western Capital was long and exhausting. It was _hot,_ and Sasuke was sick of Naruto’s relatives by the end of the first day. He did his very best to soothe her nerves, but it was futile when Kushina and Karin worked so hard to grate on them. 

Sasuke whispered to Naruto about the gunbai when no one else was around, because it was still troubling her. She still had not told him about the conversation she’d heard between Kushina and Karin, and she didn’t think she would. He had said he wouldn’t hide things from _her_. She had made no such promise, not yet. That sort of thing was a wedding vow.

“Have you heard anything else about the strange man?” Sasuke whispered to Naruto as they lay squeezed together on a bed meant for one person. Naruto never minded these nights in the inns when Sasuke was forced to let him wrap an arm around her. 

“Sasuke, how could I have heard anything?” It was evident by his tone that Naruto was tired of her asking the same question that she had been asking for two days. “We have been on the road for days now, and you are with me every single second that I am awake. You would know if I’d heard something.” 

Sasuke felt her shoulders sag slightly. “Well, yes, but—”

“No buts!” Naruto whisper-shouted. He petted Sasuke’s hair, something that they had simultaneously discovered was an effective way to calm her down. “This is not the time for that. We will be with Itachi by the time tomorrow, for sure. Keep your mind on him and not the folly happening so far from here.”

“It is not folly! Someone wielding that weapon could have reason to kill me,” Sasuke replied, just as harshly. Since learning about the abduction of the gunbai, Sasuke had witnessed Naruto speaking with Yamanaka Ino in person about the strange magic activity, and after being snatched from her by Kushina for hours, Naruto had also told her that the trail of the stolen gunbai had been lost. Everything was scaring her, but she still wanted to know as much as she could. But Naruto was an idiot, as he always had been.

“What’s that you say? Kiss you? But you’re _chaste_.” Naruto grinned in the dark in response to Sasuke’s hopeless sigh. 

“There will be no kissing until we are married,” Sasuke reminded him, and Naruto snorted. 

“Sure, yes. You stand by that.” Naruto was not so fool that he didn’t know how to condescend. He _had_ noticed that she had stopped pushing his hands away.

“ _You_ be quiet, or else your aunt will come in here.” Sasuke pushed her face into Naruto’s neck just as he was about to lean down and kiss her forehead so that his lips landed on the top of her hair instead. 

“Insufferable,” Naruto muttered. He still held her tighter, and Sasuke felt her dumb heart flitting around in her chest like some lost butterfly. He made it so hard to worry about things.

Being _home_ again was enough to have Sasuke’s worries gone, at least when she thought that Naruto wasn’t watching her. Sasuke had been sure that setting her eyes upon this city again after weeks of being away would bring her joy, but instead it only made her feel sorrow. Yes, these were the same clean gates, the same wide roads, the same stray dogs and poor children, the same opportunistic merchants, the same plazas and the same dias. Yes, she was the same Mikoto. Yes, he was the same Itachi. But now, as she looked at her tanned skin in comparison to that of her brother’s, and her hairstyle in comparison to her mother’s, she realized that maybe she was not the same Sasuke. She willed herself not to think about things like that. Not to think at all. Just to feel; feel her brother’s warm embrace, feel the familiar breezes, hear the cheers of the people that adored her. She had not noticed that Itachi was watching her, because she was watching Naruto. She did catch sight of Mikoto stealing Itachi during the singing, and she tucked it away for later. Today would already be better and more interesting than an entire week in Senju country, because she could gossip with her brother.

Just as soon as the sun was down and the festivities had wound down, Sasuke hastily dressed in a nightgown and tiptoed from her room that she was now having to share with Naruto to Itachi’s. The gloom of it all was so welcome. Sasuke breathed in deep the damp air and marveled at the shadows that Itachi’s furniture and decorations managed to cast even at night. It was everything she needed after being exposed to the _sun_ and _golds_ and _light blues_ for so long.

Venting to her brother wasn’t going to fix very much, but at least it helped ease some of Sasuke’s stress. She knew now that their relationship had changed, and that he wouldn’t be able to tell her all the things that he’d been able to tell her before, but at least he tried. She wished that he would not ask her about Naruto, because she didn’t want to think about the loneliness she felt when he was busy, or the fact that all she ever did was stare out of a window. Itachi was worried about her, and Sasuke knew that he would be. Maybe she was crazy, or sick, or something, but she was glad to know that he still cared so deeply for her as he had before. She would have been devastated if he’d already stopped loving her.

“I could never stop loving you,” Itachi scolded her when Naruto had been dismissed. She had told him the stories of learning the swords, as it was her only solace in living so far from home. It sated him to know that she had at least one thing to keep her from slowly losing her mind. That and Naruto’s stories, but she kept that part to herself.

They lost track of the time as they talked. Sasuke felt that there was something important that Itachi wasn’t telling her, but she decided that one day was enough of her poking and prodding. She’d ask him about it later. 

“Do you think you should return to him?” Itachi forced Sasuke to move to the side so that he could fit on his own bed. He yawned and rubbed his eyes before closing them.

“Is it because you are tired?” Sasuke teased, pushing some of Itachi’s hair from his face. 

Itachi shook his head weakly. “No,” he yawned again, “because he’s an impatient man. Good night, my dearest sister. I expect to hear nothing through my walls as I sleep.”

Sasuke snorted as she stood from Itachi’s bed. “How will you know you’re hearing it if you’re asleep?” She couldn’t resist the snark, but they both knew that nothing would happen tonight.

Naruto was already sleeping when Sasuke entered the room as stealthily as possible. She knew that he would be, and so she didn’t want to be loud and wake him up. He had been missing his day-sleep due to their travels and his attitude was suffering because of it. Sasuke slid underneath the covers next to him as carefully and as slowly as she could manage. It was difficult, because he took up so much of the space on the mattress, but she found a place where she was comfortable and she was satisfied that she hadn’t woken him up. He was so warm. Sasuke closed her eyes against the feeling of his breaths on her forehead and resisted the urge to tangle their legs together. Not quite the time for that, she told herself. 

“Next time, don’t take so long.” Naruto’s voice was gruff with sleep, but his arms were gentle as they wrapped around Sasuke’s body. She shivered as his fingertips brushed the back of her neck.

“Don’t wait for me,” Sasuke replied in a yawn.

“Impossible,” Naruto mumbled. “I’ve been waiting for you for too long.”

Something told Sasuke that he didn’t mean tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope this was worth the wait haha. it was really fun to write and i especially loved fleshing out the relationship between naruto and sasuke as well as continuing to build the world a little more :)) let me know what you thought!!


	9. Love and War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled
> 
> a note:  
> as some of you may be able to figure, karin is significantly younger than obito in this universe. though they were married, their union was never consummated. i do understand that this may be a touchy subject for some, so be warned that while not at all graphic, their relationship is briefly described.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls i know i only did one but it’s coming it’s coming i promise 
> 
> had to get back to the hot mess moms... and there are just so many secrets going on that it was confusing ~me~ and i’m writing this. pls let me know what you thought, as always!!
> 
> love and war - tamar braxton

**_Kushina_ **

“And I told him not to worry about it too much, but he can sense my fear like an animal. So he’s worried about it.” Kushina pinched the bridge of her nose lightly before putting her hands back on Mikoto’s foot. “He is a worrisome boy.” 

“Of course he does, he’s your only one. He’s only ever been underneath you at every turn. You see how Itachi is,” Mikoto said as she cleaned her fingernails. Even like this, catering to Mikoto’s every whim, Kushina felt her heart fit to burst. Maybe it was the proximity, but it was probably the groans Mikoto was trying to hide. 

It had been nothing to come in here. Either these guards were a lot more lax than Kushina remembered, or Mikoto had told them to lay off. Whatever the case may have been, Kushina had wasted no time in leaving her room and coming in here once she thought all the others were sleeping. Everything was so dark and black and cold, it was the least Mikoto could do to share her warmth. And share she promised to do, after Kushina let her vent. Now, after spending a few hours gossiping about the past few weeks, they were sharing their concerns about the news of the magic and the stolen artifact.

“He claims to be Obito?” Kushina asked now, switching from Mikoto’s right foot to her left. (She would do anything for this woman. Especially when she smelled so good from a bath, and she asked so nicely. Who on Earth was Kushina to tell Mikoto no? No one. No one told this girl what she didn’t want to hear.) To say in the least, she was worried about this news about Mikoto’s brother resurfacing. She was thinking about her sister more than anything else. She had been there when her sister had stood before the people and vowed to love that man in sickness and in health, and love him she did.

It had been a hot day.

Karin had never been more excited. She was gushing, going on and on about how handsome Obito was and how wonderful their life would be together. Everyone was trying not to sweat as Karin was getting the last touches out to her dress and her nails. So young, so impressionable, and so eager. Just barely a woman, she had never wanted anything more than this. To have a man at her side just like her sister and her mother. Kushina thought it silly to _dream_ of a man, but she was not one to chastise, not about this. She had a band inside her maid of honor dress to accommodate for her growing belly. No one outside of the family knew that she was pregnant yet, and she and Minato wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible, though it was growing more difficult as the summer fell into autumn.

Kushina remembered standing next to her sister as she told the world that she would love Obito through evil and hate, through love and sacrifice, until death did them part. She remembered watching Obito beam as he slid the ring over her sister’s thin knuckle, and feeling tears come to her eyes as they were pronounced man and wife. Sometimes, she could still hear the cheers that erupted as they kissed and took their first steps as a married couple. 

She also remembered trying to warn her sister of the poison Obito would put inside of her. Of course, she couldn’t say how she knew. She just spoke of her father, already a distant memory, and how he had nearly died at the hands of Uchiha Madara. Would she want that to happen to her, for Obito to fly into some rage that could only be quelled by blood, violence, and fire?

“Oh, but he’d never do that,” Karin said, shaking her head and waving a hand to dismiss the notion. “He’s perfect, and he _promised_. You heard it, you were there!” So foolish. Karin knew not of the seriousness of becoming a princess.

Mito made no objections, though Kushina could see it in her mother’s eyes. She felt it, too. She had seen it, at least. Hashirama had been delivered to her; there was no fight there. Still, Kushina knew that Mito had been forced to endure Madara’s jealousy for the rest of Hashirama’s life. It was a curse, it was poison, it was a disease. She didn’t want her sister to catch it. 

In the privacy of these chambers, Kushina laid one hand over her sister’s shoulder and the other on top of her now loosely covered belly. “You are but a girl,” Kushina had said. “He is a man. And men do nothing but take, nothing but deceive.” Mikoto was in Kushina’s mind’s eye even then, sitting next to Fugaku as though they hadn’t spent the night before together. Her mind turned from Mikoto to Mikoto’s _child_ , miles away underneath Madara’s dark wing,and she drew her lip between her teeth just as Karin did the same. Karin’s eyes fell to her hand, where her shiny new diamond ring was snug on her finger.

“He promised,” Karin whispered. 

Obito had never been very much fit for a life of nobility, from what Kushina could recall. It had been so many years now that she wondered if she’d recognize him if she saw him. Could it _be_ him? She was certain that he’d been killed in a bar fight. That was the word, anyway, but there wasn’t very much truth to some things, and a little too much truth to others. What would he do if he came here? Surely this place would be his target. Kushina felt hot anxiety curling around in the pit of her stomach at the thought.

“He does,” Mikoto said. She finally took her eyes from her own hands to look at Kushina’s face. Her anxiety faded just slightly as those brown eyes came to meet her own. Kushina exhaled a small sigh and when she breathed in, she inhaled Mikoto’s general fragrance, now mixed with a flowery scent from the balm she was applying to Mikoto’s feet. 

“You worry,” Kushina stated. 

Mikoto looked away again. “I know that it is… the information is all too coincidental. The way that he was described, the act in itself… it’s everything Obito would do. I never thought that I’d have to worry about him like this.” Mikoto shook her head. “I was prepared for him to be my king, once. Now that my son sits the throne, I won’t give that up. I will not. I will _kill_ him with my bare hands.” At this, Mikoto raised a fist to the air. Her eyes were hard. Kushina wiped her hands dry with Mikoto’s discarded bath towel and climbed up the bed to sit next to Mikoto. She put a hand to Mikoto’s chest. 

“You won’t be killing anyone,” Kushina said. Mikoto let her hand fall onto her lap in a defeated way.

“I have so much fear, so much,” Mikoto whispered. “He will come here, and he will try to kill me, my son, my daughter. He will burn this place to the ground, just like Mother.” Mikoto squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head fast. Her long and wild hair fell into her eyes. When she pushed it out of her face, there was still a frenzied expression there. “What will I do? What will I do if he comes to destroy me?”

Kushina’s eyes were sad as she watched Mikoto cry. What could she say? She had never been one to waste energy on putting a bow on things that were already ugly. She knew that Mikoto had reason to worry, to fear for her life and the lives of her children. Even Sasuke did not deserve this fate, Kushina reasoned with herself bitterly. Kushina leaned closer to Mikoto and pressed open-mouthed kisses on her temple and her hair.

“You are too fair to cry,” Kushina tried. Mikoto was not buying what Kushina was trying to sell.

“I am not fair. I exist in gloom and I have been sprouted from hatred,” Mikoto said.

Kushina’s eyebrows drew together as she pulled away to look at Mikoto’s face. “Why do you speak like this?” She was aware of the fact that Mikoto was dramatic, but she had never gone _this_ dark. There was more on her mind than she was letting on. Kushina hated that she had never learned the tricks to reading this woman’s emotions.

“My mother was hateful,” Mikoto said quietly. “It was this that made her so volatile. So murderous. The person that she was. That hatred, and all that comes with it, it dwells within me, but who is there to hate? My husband is dead. He is the last person that I hated. Now my son is my king and my daughter is set to be a queen.”

“Yes?” Kushina wondered if this was how Naruto felt when she spoke. She had no clue where Mikoto was trying to lead her.

“But my brother,” Mikoto continued, “my brother has everything to hate. Me, this kingdom as we know it, this _realm_ for persecuting Mother and for allowing… Hashirama to break her very fabric the way he did. He has reason to hate everything, anything. And the hate makes us as a people do unforgivable things.”

Kushina sighed. She wished that she had the words to make Mikoto’s anxiety fade. She wanted to wipe this look off of her face, but she didn’t know how. Anything she said would most likely only stoke Mikoto’s despair. 

Mikoto’s eyes came up to Kushina’s face after a while of watching her wrestling fingers. “Does your sister know about him?”

“Yes,” Kushina said. “Naruto discussed it with us.” Kushina hoped that the way she felt wasn’t being portrayed on her face. She was so, so conflicted. She was in love with this woman, and though she wished that it were just the two of them, she did not want to see any real harm done to anyone that Mikoto loved. But Karin was her sister, and Karin was still, by the laws of this land, married to that man. Obito would not target the Senju and may even ask them for aid. What was she to tell her own son? Enter a war on what might be the wrong side? Or help Obito in his claim, running the risk of severing all ties with the Uchiha if it all went wrong?

“She still loves him?” Mikoto asked. Kushina was not used to this earnestness. Mikoto was far too blunt and to the point, usually. It was what Kushina loved. There was a vulnerability in Mikoto’s expressions that Kushina didn’t know what do with.

“I… does it ever fade?” Kushina didn’t have to specify.

Mikoto closed her eyes tight again and pressed her lips together, as though she were stifling a scream. They should talk about it, Kushina knew, but there was _pain_ on Mikoto’s face and she didn’t like it. 

“Dearest love,” Kushina tried, “could we sleep? And tomorrow, when your mind is a bit more clear, we can talk about it again? If you’d like. Or we could do something else?” Kushina’s fingers carded into Mikoto’s hair. She still smelled so good, intoxicating. Kushina was beginning to lose her focus. There would be no more tears tonight, not when Mikoto looked and smelled like this.

“Something else?” Mikoto wiped at her face and twisted some of her hair around in her fist. “Like what?”

Kushina shrugged, though she was sure the grin on her face betrayed her. She walked the fingers of her other hand up Mikoto’s arm, from the crook of it all the way up to her shoulder. Her fingers curled around the strap of Mikoto’s nightgown. Mikoto’s skin was hot to the touch as Kushina began to slide the strap off her shoulder. “We could go shopping, watch a show,” she said casually, nonchalantly, but she was working in overdrive to keep her tone even. Every other part of her was trembling.

Mikoto’s eyes watched Kushina’s fingers as they scaled her arm, and then trailed back down to follow the path of her thin strap down off her shoulder. Her eyes came back up to Kushina’s, still as hard as ever. “Shop, as though you are not the queen?”

“Your daughter wishes to take that place from me,” Kushina reminded quietly. The hand that had been pushing Mikoto’s hair back was now caressing the soft skin behind her knee. Kushina felt the hair on Mikoto’s legs rising, but she didn’t mention it. No doubt this stubborn woman would blame it on the ever-present chill in these chambers. 

Mikoto scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest, but it was too late. Kushina had seen what her simple touches were doing to Mikoto’s body. Mikoto licked over her lips before she replied. “How do you figure?”

“She is shoving herself into Naruto’s consciousness, I can see it as plain as the flush of his cheeks whenever they are together.” Kushina was so lost in Mikoto. She watched the upward curve of Mikoto’s long eyelashes as she blinked once, twice. She watched Mikoto’s fingers squeeze bunches of the sheets as her own hand began to skate up, up, up until her nails were scraping the soft skin of the inside of Mikoto’s thigh. She watched as an unrepressed shiver stole up Mikoto’s spine. She thought she would surely melt away before she even got to what she wanted to do.

“It’s just like it always is,” Mikoto said slowly, still so desperate to keep her voice from shaking. Her eyes were watching Kushina’s hands, now on her knees so that she could part her legs gently. “When do two of us get together and it doesn’t begin that way?”

“Who knows,” Kushina said against the skin of Mikoto’s throat. Everything was so hot, and Mikoto was so wet. Just the tip of Kushina’s first finger had made it to her final destination, and already she thought she would suffocate. Drown. It was fine, though. A peaceful way to leave, wrapped up in this woman.

Mikoto’s grips on the sheets had migrated to Kushina’s hair. Oh, she was a rough one. Kushina was lucky that they hadn’t started this way, else there may be marks just as red as her hair that she would have to worry about covering up tomorrow. Kushina exhaled a sharp breath when Mikoto tugged her hair a little harshly. She was asking for more, _telling_ Kushina that this was not enough. 

“You seem to know something.” Mikoto had finally given up and had let her voice start shaking. It was all so much easier when she let herself go. Kushina slid her tongue into Mikoto’s mouth just as she pressed her finger in, all the way to the knuckle. Mikoto moaned deep against Kushina’s mouth. In the back of her mind, Kushina sure hoped that Mikoto’s son was asleep already on the other side of this wall. Mikoto drew Kushina closer by a hand on her lower back. Kushina felt Mikoto’s nails beginning to dig into the cotton of her own underclothes as Kushina chanced another finger, slowly and with great purpose.

“I know one thing only.” Kushina’s voice was low as she spoke against Mikoto’s lips. Mikoto was breathing curses and gasps into Kushina’s mouth, and Kushina needed it. Lived for it. Subsisted off of it. Mikoto’s legs were shaking by the time Kushina began rubbing her thumb over the middle. Kushina could _hear_ it, the way that Mikoto needed her, too. There wasn’t an inch of Kushina’s skin that wasn’t on fire. Curse this, her wind affinity. It only served to make Mikoto’s fire burn her harder. 

“Tell me,” Mikoto whined, though she then bit down on Kushina’s bottom lip. Kushina moved ever closer, changing the angle of her fingers and causing Mikoto’s toes to start curling. Kushina’s eyes were closed by now, but she knew that was happening without having to watch. Every part of Mikoto was emblazoned into Kushina’s consciousness. What was that about consciousness? Kushina already couldn’t remember. Mikoto’s body drew her in every time she moved away to breathe. She could suffocate though, she could. It would be fine. 

Kushina took her time answering Mikoto’s request. For once, she was not rushing anything. It was only fitting that now, in her own room, in her own bed, Mikoto would be the one begging. That’s the way it was meant to be. With her teeth in Mikoto’s pulse, she whispered, “You belong to me,” and she drank in the way Mikoto’s breaths puffed out. So needy, so open. There was no argument. All of the snark and snideness that usually dwelt inside of Mikoto had been replaced with a breathless wanton that Kushina was desperate to see, feel, hear. 

Mikoto’s hips were starting to jerk. Kushina could feel the clenching of the inside of Mikoto’s body, and it would only be a matter of time. Kushina liked to draw things out, but Mikoto was just the opposite. She was so impatient, pulling hard at Kushina’s hair in a fist and nipping at her throat when she leaned close to whisper obscene things in her ear. She was driving her hips down with no real rhythm; she was past trying to keep up a certain appearance now. There was no one here but Kushina, and Kushina _needed_ the abandon. 

Mikoto murmured over and over about how she was going to do it, it was going to happen, and Kushina opened her eyes again to watch. It was a little hard because of the vice grip Mikoto had on her hair, but they still caught eyes as Mikoto’s body began to convulse. Right before she squeezed them shut and dragged Kushina down to kiss her so hard that it hurt. Kushina knew that if her eyes weren’t already shut, they would have been rolling into the back of her head. Her own body was still quaking when she rolled off of Mikoto and heaved a strong breath. 

“Do I really?” Mikoto’s voice was a wisp when she finally spoke again. There was a flush all across her body, but she still smelled so good. Maybe it was scent that kept these cursed Uchiha so deep inside of a Senju. Kushina turned her head lazily in Mikoto’s direction, her eyebrows drawing together slightly.

“Do you really?” Kushina repeated.

Mikoto forced her body up so that she was leaning on her elbow, looking down at where Kushina lay. She pushed a hand into her hair to keep it out of her eyes.

“Do I really belong to you?”

Kushina scoffed and looked away. This _girl_. She turned her eyes to look at Mikoto’s again. Shining even in the dark of this night. Beams on Kushina’s heart. “As much as I belong to you,” she breathed in a sigh. 

Mikoto fell back flat onto the mattress then, satisfied with that answer. “We can go shopping tomorrow,” she said.

Kushina did not speak a reply to this and instead looked up pensively at the canopy of Mikoto’s bed. Though she was wrapped up in her love for Mikoto, she could not stop thinking about Mikoto’s brother. But that was a problem for another day, she decided when she felt Mikoto’s hand reaching for hers.

A crack of thunder woke Kushina the next morning. 

“Rain?” she mumbled to herself. Mikoto was awake and gone from the bed. Kushina sat up fast and searched the room quickly for Mikoto, only to find her kneeling in front of her window.

Mikoto turned her head slightly when she heard Kushina sit up. “Seems that we aren’t shopping today, after all.” She cast her eyes back out toward the gloom outside of the window.

After she dressed in a muted red ensemble, Kushina crossed the room to join Mikoto where she sat on her heels. Kushina could see that Mikoto’s mind was lost in something, so she remained silent. 

Mikoto sighed hard just as Kushina came to sit next to her. She pushed up off of the floor to help herself stand and put her hands on her hips. “My son will be around to wake me, like he tries to every morning,” she said. Kushina didn’t know why this position was putting such a strain on her heart. She almost thought that she’d felt this before, in a distant lifetime. Through different eyes she’d had the same view, or something. She couldn’t put her finger on it.

“You would do well to go back to your own room and change into something for staying inside.” Mikoto was moving around the room already, going to where her clothes hung and rummaging around for some shoes. “And make sure that Naruto and Sasuke are sightly.”

Kushina stood fast and unsteady from where she had been sitting. “What has changed?” Kushina tried to reach for Mikoto when she was dressing, but Mikoto moved quickly away. Where was the earnestness, the uncertainty, the vulnerability, the openness?

“I know not to what you refer” Mikoto said curtly. She sat in front of her vanity, beginning to braid her hair carefully. Her face was serious, so different from how she had looked last night. Kushina felt something heavy and hot settling in her chest.

For a moment, Kushina stood back and watched as Mikoto continued to braid her hair as though Kushina wasn’t there. After a few minutes and another crack of thunder, Mikoto turned and sighed. “What are you still here for?”

Kushina quirked an eyebrow. She crossed her arms with indigance. “Excuse me,” Kushina said, “but who was it that asked me to come in here in the first place?”

Mikoto pursed her lips briefly before turning back to her hair. She opened a clip with her teeth instead of answering, so Kushina took the opportunity to get closer. She would not be ignored. “I will leave to keep up appearances, but do not think that this is over. I don’t know what’s gotten into you since last night, but if this is how you are going to comport yourself, you can expect me to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

Kushina left without any more words so that she didn’t say something to embarrass herself. Her resolve could only stay intact for so long before she started to act foolish. Just as she closed the door to her room behind her, she heard Itachi opening Mikoto’s door. She always tried not to let Mikoto drive her crazy, but it was impossible.

What had changed, what had happened while Kushina was sleeping that had made Mikoto act so cold? Kushina felt her pulse in her fingertips as she sat in front of a mirror to comb her hair. They would be staying in, Mikoto had said. Stuck in this place for hours with nothing to do but watch her son fall down this same all too familiar pit of despair, or have to listen to Itachi’s orders (though he was a respectful boy), or have to look at Mikoto and remember what they’d done the night before but not speak. What was she supposed to do all day, wait for Mikoto to regain her senses? She was sure that they were past the problem that they’d been having for over two decades. Or, at least, beginning to be past it. They’d started to try to do the work. It wouldn’t change overnight, but something had. Kushina hated that Mikoto had the power to do this to her, to force all of the other things out of her mind so that it was just her, her, her.

Sasuke and Naruto came to summon Kushina to eat. Kushina kept her eyes pointedly off of the two of them and how closely they had begun to stand to one another on a regular basis. _Please,_ she begged the gods, _please let him snap out of it._ It would kill her, destroy her, to see her son ever feel the way about Sasuke that she herself felt about Mikoto. It wasn’t fair, it was never fair.

Kushina sat between her son and her sister at breakfast. Naruto, for once, was paying attention to her and not Sasuke. 

“There is melancholy in your expression,” Naruto remarked as he passed Kushina a platter of honeybread. “Is it because of the rain?”

Kushina shook her head. “I am fine, my king,” she lied. Naruto narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Your king, that is right. So why do you find it appropriate to lie to me?”

“It’s not that—” Kushina had been about to say serious, but the thunder forced her to be silent. Naruto raised an eyebrow and pointed to the ceiling, dozens of feet above their heads.

“That could have been you.”

Kushina glared at Naruto but didn’t reply to him. It was just her luck. Spending all his time with Sasuke was causing him to gain a little more perception. 

“Sister.” Karin spoke on Kushina’s other side, drawing her attention from the potential disaster of a conversation that was about to ensue. She welcomed the interruption and offered Karin a small nod.

“I need to talk to you sometime,” Karin said. Kushina frowned. She had become so serious since Obito’s rumored death, but never like this. Kushina was afraid of what Karin might want to discuss.

“What’s this about?”

Karin shook her head and glanced forward from where she’d been looking at Kushina’s face. Kushina turned her head to follow Karin’s eyes, and her gaze landed on Mikoto as though drawn by a magnet. Itachi was whispering furiously to her, and he wasn’t letting Mikoto get any words in. Sasuke was drinking, so she wasn’t paying anyone any attention. 

“I see,” Kushina said when she turned to her sister once more. “You can come to my chambers after the meal, if you like. But I must speak with Naruto first,” she added.

At the mention of his name, Naruto looked up from his plate. “About what?”

“The… magic,” Kushina said with a little less certainty than she would have liked. Naruto grimaced, but he nodded. 

In truth, Kushina wanted to discuss Obito. She wanted to ask Naruto what he thought he would do if Obito came to him with the proposal of declaring war on this country. She shivered at the thought of it coming to that, but these were the things that had to be discussed. She couldn’t shield him from these sorts of things forever, or else he would be lost when she was gone. He was already lost now, and she stood next to him every day. It was so hard to be alone, sometimes.

Kushina kept her eyes to herself for the rest of the meal, and waited for Naruto to come to her when it was over. He leaned against a wall while Kushina sat at a desk. She had some empty stationary and a quill poised.

“What would I do, you ask?” 

Kushina could tell by his tone that Naruto had given this no thought whatsoever.

“What do you mean, what would I do?”

Kushina pressed her lips together for a moment as she sighed. “I _mean,_ would you imprison him? Would you listen to his terms? Would you question his claim? What would you _do_?”

Naruto scratched his chin. “I suppose I would ask what his goal was. His real goal.” He added the last part when Kushina’s shoulders sagged in disappointment and she sighed deeply.

“You know what he wants,” Kushina pointed out. She was still careful not to say his name or let on that she had any idea who the person was, because the explaining would take too long. Plus, she didn’t want him running to Sasuke and telling her things that she didn’t need to know. “Someone wielding such an ancient weapon is powerful, you must think. And if they are in the company of spirit magic, they must feel that they have a strong enough claim to power. So what do you think they’d want?”

“I know that they would want control,” Naruto said petulantly. “I know this. I mean, I would ask why they were going to the trouble. Why it means so much to them to try to… overthrow everything. Being a usurper is dangerous, life-threatening. If he is caught, he’ll be killed. I want to know why it’s worth it.”

Kushina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine, fine, ok.” She didn’t have the mental capacity to argue with him about that nonsense. “What if he asks you to join him? If he decides that the cause is worthy to the Senju, and he attempts to convince you to fight against the Uchiha? What would you do then?”

Naruto took more time thinking about this. His eyes traveled the room a few times before landing on Kushina. There was torment there, and she didn’t like putting her son through this. But he was the king. None of this would be happening if Minato were still around, but alas. 

“I don’t think I’d do it,” Naruto said. His words were uncertain, but his tone was final. He _wouldn’t_ do it. “I am not going to willingly enter a war against these people again. The third time in one hundred years? Too much bloodshed, over what?”

“Power, Naruto.” Kushina said this word, but she thought another. 

_Love._

How many generations of these people had been putting one another through this, warring over their broken hearts and causing the cycle to repeat forever? How many pairs of people had been born, Senju on one half and Uchiha on the other, whose lives were twined from the day they took their first breaths? How many of them had died at the hands of the other? And for _love._ Kushina wished so desperately for it to end with her, but she was hopeless to the fact that it wouldn’t. She was tied to Uchiha Mikoto for the rest of her pathetic existence. So it would have to end with Naruto. It _had_ to.

Naruto watched Kushina carefully. She knew by now that her emotions were plain on her face, but she wasn’t going to be able to hide them anymore. Working so hard on keeping everything intact left her in shreds on the inside. Kushina wiped at her eyes in vain, and she turned away from Naruto when he came to wrap his arms around her. So much like his father when he mumbled against her hair that she needn’t cry. Exactly the same, because he had no idea why.

“Mother,” Naruto murmured, “it pains me when you shed tears. Please do not cry. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, or me, or Karin. We are going to make it.”

Kushina looked up at Naruto after he stood back. She ran her hand underneath her eyes again. “And that’s all that matters?”

Naruto nodded. Kushina felt her heart fighting to reach him.

Just then, Karin opened the door without knocking. Naruto stood farther back away from Kushina so that she may stand. 

“Do you require the room?” Naruto asked Karin, who nodded. 

“Allow us just a few moments, my king,” Karin said graciously. Kushina did not like how the seriousness of Karin’s tone had not faded. Naruto left without any more words. Kushina went to sit in front of the closed window, watching the rain beat on the colored glass.

“What is it that’s got you speaking like this?” Kushina felt Karin drawing closer, but she didn’t look up.

“Something about the man who stole the gunbai,” Karin said.

Kushina glanced up at her sister to see her biting her lip, just the way she had all those years ago. She looked down at the same hand Obito had put the ring on. It was gone now; he’d stolen it when he’d left. 

“I think it’s him.”

Kushina wished to feign ignorance, but instead she closed her eyes. “And if it is?”

Karin hummed. “Then I want to see him destroyed, just the way he destroyed me when he left.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sasuke day drinking, naruto saying big words, kushina and mikoto soft core... this rainy day has started off very fucking crazy


	10. My Heart Belongs to U

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requirement #4 fulfilled:  
> summer rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back again with some of our dear king senju. as always, it was so fun to write his moments with sasuke and yes, you know tht this is indulgent... i have to have my fun too
> 
> naruto is innnn for it
> 
> my heart belongs to u - jodeci

**_Naruto_ **

He hadn’t taken three steps outside of Kushina’s bedroom before Itachi was upon him. 

“Your Grace,” Naruto said in greeting, only to be met with angry eyes.

“I require your ear,” Itachi said impatiently. His arms were crossed and he was clearly very upset. Naruto had no clue as to what this might have been about. The last he’d seen Itachi, he was whispering to Mikoto in harsh tones. Naruto’s attention had been on his mother, and on making sure Sasuke stopped while she was ahead.

“What is the subject?” Naruto asked. Itachi looked fit to sneer when Sasuke peeked her head out of his room. 

“Stop this now. Hurry up and ask him so we can do what we were going to do,” Sasuke said, her tone echoing her brother’s hastiness. 

“What is _happening_?” Naruto questioned the empty air as Sasuke came to drag him into Itachi’s room behind her. When the door was closed, Sasuke sat Naruto down on the large chair Itachi had occupied the night before, and she took her spot next to him.

“Go on,” Sasuke said, waving an exasperated hand. “Breathe your folly into the universe one more time.”

Itachi’s eyes were hard as they shifted from Naruto to Sasuke and back again. Sasuke sat close. Naruto was fine with that, usually, but Itachi looked as though he was trying to burn a space between them with his eyes alone. Naruto shifted away from Sasuke just slightly, but she moved closer again when the rain got loud outside.

“I do not know how to say this—”

“Say it to him the way you said it to me,” Sasuke offered petulantly. Her arm was wrapped beneath Naruto’s. He was most definitely paying attention to Itachi’s voice. 

“Do not speak out of turn,” Itachi said. Sasuke’s head tilted down the slightest bit. Itachi turned his attention to Naruto again, his angry eyes shining dark against his pale skin.

“When I sent you away last night, what did I tell you?” Itachi held his hands together in front of him as a method of controlling himself. 

“Um.” Naruto scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Not to get any ideas about what kind of night I would have with Sasuke. Yes? That’s what you mean?”

Itachi’s glare never faltered. “That is to what I refer, yes. Now tell me, what kind of night did you have with my sister?”

“I had a nice night with my fiancé,” Naruto replied. “She came back late and I told her a story, like I do every night. It helps her sleep.” Sasuke snickered next to Naruto as Itachi’s lip curled.

“So you both maintain that nothing untoward happened, then. Consort indeed.”

Sasuke took offense to this. She stood fast from where she was tucking herself into Naruto’s side and pointed an indignant finger at Itachi’s chest. “You will _not_ accuse me of breaking my morals, all because you are lonely and were hallucinating sounds. I do not know what noises you spoke of. Naruto and I heard nothing of the sort.”

“You speak for him, now?” 

Naruto thought that he could feel the fire emanating from the two of them as their tempers rose. “What noises did you hear?” he asked from where he sat, to try to quell them.

“The noises of lecherous behavior,” Itachi said. He crossed his arms as Sasuke took another step closer. 

“We remain pure and bound to one another,” Sasuke spit. She mimicked her brother’s stance. They were so alike, nearly the same height and of almost identical countenances. Naruto felt a bit lost looking between them. He’d never had an argument with a sibling; the closest he got was his aunt, but even she had a decade and some change on him.

“Your Highness, she speaks the truth,” Naruto said, standing as well. He came to stand at Sasuke’s side. “Nothing of that sort happened last night. Not in our room.”

Itachi hummed in dissatisfaction. “If not from you, then who? I _heard_ it. I do not imagine things.”

Naruto felt a prickling discomfort underneath his skin. “Are you sure? Do you think that you might have been… dreaming?”

“Dreaming? Do not insult me.” Itachi finally lost his control. His tone shifted to dangerously low. “I do not have such dreams.” He came closer to Naruto, and Naruto could certainly feel the fire now. “I do not have any evidence of your lying, so I must believe what you say. But hear this! If I hear any such noises again, I will get to the bottom of it.”

Sasuke did not allow Naruto to reply to this and instead gripped his arm to pull him out of the room. “Brother, do not insult _us_!” Sasuke said over her shoulder. “We barely touch!” 

Naruto didn’t like that very much, but he couldn’t protest because Sasuke was rushing him back into their room. When the door was closed behind them, Sasuke began pacing in front of it, mumbling curses to herself and throwing her hands in the air. “Can you calm down, please?” Naruto begged. “Come closer. Tell me what happened.”

Sasuke was still flustered when she joined Naruto on the bed. He yawned and drew the covers over his lap. Too much was happening today, and the rain was lulling Naruto to sleep. Sasuke had better hurry with her explaining or he’d be asleep. She seemed to sense his growing drowsiness, because she held his face in her hands when his eyes began to close. His eyes flew open, but only for a moment. “Naruto, please. Itachi has accused us of tarnished morals!”

“Tarnished… morals,” Naruto repeated between another yawn. “Does he think that I have taken your maiden tag? In a place like this? I wouldn’t dream of it.” Naruto ran a hand over his face where Sasuke’s hands didn’t reach. Her fingertips, so gentle against his skin, were waking him up. 

“It is not _funny_. That is what he thinks,” Sasuke nodded. She took her hands from Naruto’s face and laid them in her lap. “I have no clue what sounds he was talking about. I worry for his sanity, here with no one but Mother to speak his mind to.” Sasuke fretted over the ends of some of her hair. When Naruto didn’t answer, she looked up with sharp eyes. “Are you listening? Open your eyes! He has had men killed for looking at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Naruto whined, blinking heavily. “It’s raining. It is the lullaby for the best day-sleep.” Naruto laid down underneath the covers and closed his eyes all the way. He opened the blanket for Sasuke to join him. “He’s not going to have anyone kill me. They’d kill him for it.” 

Sasuke refused to relax. “You just don’t understand.” She shook her head. Naruto forced his eyes open again. “Let us imagine for a moment that what he says is true, that there was some sort of lustful activity going on,” Sasuke began. She spoke with her hands, turning them in circles. “It was not us, and it was not him. Who does that leave up here?”

“Your mother, my mother and my aunt,” Naruto said, counting on his fingers. “None of them have brought anyone with them. It is just…” Naruto sat up fast and fisted a hand in his hair. Suddenly, he was wide awake. 

“Do you see?” Sasuke’s tone held slight relief, but only because Naruto finally understood what she was trying to say. “If the word gets out that people are… _fornicating_ ,” Sasuke whispered, “they will have nothing to assume but that it is us. A blemish on our marriage before it has even begun.”

Naruto bit his nails as he thought, until Sasuke yanked his arm down, saying something about a bad habit. “Who would it be, then? Are there any other rooms around here?” 

Sasuke shrugged. “Perhaps, supply closets with linens and rooms where my grandmother kept her spare clothes. She had so many clothes.” Sasuke ran a hand into her hair. She had only combed it loosely today, so it was falling wildly. For just a second, Naruto allowed himself to be mesmerized by Sasuke, even as she sat here stewing in worry. “I just do not understand it. _Who_ could have been…?”

It didn’t look good, Naruto had to admit. And given Sasuke’s more recent warming up to him, he thought it would only begin to look worse unless an end was put to it. But for something to end, one must know where to start. That’s the part that they couldn’t figure out. 

“Beautiful,” Naruto said, reaching for Sasuke, “might we sleep and try to think of something later?” It was still raining, and though Naruto’s nerves were heightened, this was his time for sleeping. It just was. He had been sleeping at the same time of day for his entire life. 

Sasuke, on the other hand, was incredulous. “No, _sleep_? At a time like this?” She shook her head again, this time with disappointment, and stood from the bed. “I thought you understood.”

“I do understand,” Naruto quipped, “but what can be done about it? If we say that it was not us to someone who knows of it not, that will only serve to incriminate us. Likewise, if we continue to bother your brother with it, his temper will surely be lost. It is not unlike someone of your clan, or someone with your affinity.”

Sasuke put a hand on her hip. “Oh, yes, because we just cannot control ourselves, clearly.” Sasuke began rooting around the room. “Leave it to the wind to tell a fire what to do.”

“What are you doing now?” Naruto got exhausted just looking at her. He didn’t appreciate her comment about his magic, but she left no room for argument.

“Don’t worry about it. My will is just too strong to stay in here.” Sasuke shoved her feet into shoes and stood before her vanity briefly to make sure that she didn’t look disheveled.

“Sasuke, please.” Naruto stood, finally, and he caught her wrist as her other hand was set to push the door open. She turned to him angrily and gave him a defiant look.

“Please, what? Please don’t leave? Please don’t worry about it? Please don’t do something stupid?” Sasuke’s voice felt like venom coursing through Naruto’s veins. She was poisoning him when she frowned, when she spoke so harshly. “It’s too late, _Senju_ Naruto. I’m going to do all of those things. I wouldn’t want to burn you down on my way.”

“But you don’t _have_ to,” Naruto said, tightening his grip on her arm. He drew her closer a little forcefully, until their chests were touching. Damn her for being his height. Her eyes were wider than before; he had surprised her with his assertiveness. “You do not have to do something stupid just to spite me. You’re too smart to really think that you’ll gain anything from that.” Naruto pushed some of Sasuke’s hair behind her ear. 

Sasuke never looked away. There was no hesitance in her eyes. “It isn’t always about you,” she replied. “No amount of gentle touching or compliments to my intelligence will stop me,” she said. “But do not worry.” Sasuke pulled her arm free from Naruto’s hold and extracted herself from his space. “I won’t burn this place down. It takes far too long to build these things.”

Naruto felt frustration gripping him as he watched Sasuke tip toe away from him. He should follow her, he knew that he should, but he was too confused to know what to say when he faced her again. He flounced back to the bed and drew the covers over himself angrily after he’d closed the door behind Sasuke. He couldn’t expect her to not be upset, when he thought about what he’d said. He hadn’t _meant_ any harm, but it was just like he’d said. These people took the smallest things and made them into catastrophic disasters. That’s what Mito had told him, anyway. Hashirama was long gone by the time Naruto was born. 

Closing his eyes was a bit harder now that Sasuke wasn’t next to him. He was used to curling himself around her and feeling her face against the skin of his neck, or his chest while she settled. He would always press his nose to her hair, breathe her in, and hold her by her middle so that their chests touched. She used to object that it was too close because Naruto made her too hot, but she said no such things now. Sometimes, if he didn’t hold her tight enough, she would roll closer and get into his space on purpose. He didn’t let _that_ continue, because he would wake up with her spit on him. Naruto sighed. He wanted her there. There was nothing but a cold, empty bed and his whirling thoughts as he tried to sleep. At least there was the summer rain and the flower-scent of Sasuke in this pillow when he closed his eyes.

When Naruto opened his eyes, he wasn’t tucked into Sasuke’s bed in the dreary Uchiha country. Instead, he was squinting against clouds of heavy dust and the sun as it beat down upon him. It was sweltering inside this full suit of armor, and loud. There were dozens of people near him, but he was in the front of this platoon. Glancing around through the slits in his helm, Naruto saw that of all the units he was heading, it was cavalry. If he made it out of this, he would have to have a long talk with Jiraiya.

Naruto faced forward when the other horses around him came to an abrupt halt. He put a heel in his horse’s side to make it stop, too. Lifting the guard, Naruto strained his eyes across the field to see the man sitting not atop a horse, but something wooden. It was akin to a horse, but it was disproportionate, and Naruto could make out sharp teeth and red eyes carved into the face. The man had dark hair, just like in the letter, but his eyes weren’t red. Well, both of them weren’t. One of them glowed an obscene color of purple that wasn’t natural. Naruto felt himself shiver as the man raised his hand to make his make-shift army come to a halt behind him.

Each character in this militia was stranger than the last. One of them, with bright grey hair, held a large scythe at his back. _Large_ was an understatement, really. It was nearly bigger than him, and the prongs were red like blood. Next to him, with deep red hair that made Naruto think about his mother, sat a man with the same sort of purple eyes as his leader. Naruto could just barely make out that his face worried as he glanced to the dark-haired man. The last of the men that Naruto could see had long blonde hair and crazy eyes, even from here. Every last one of them was unsettling to look at.

“Senju Naruto of the East,” called the leader, “do you know who you address?” Naruto could finally see the neck of the gunbai, now that he had focused his eyes. His mind drifted to Sasuke, who he could barely see in his mind’s eye. It hurt to think about her. 

“A potential usurper who does not need any formal introduction,” Naruto said. “You address me out of turn. I am the _king_ of the East.”

From afar, Naruto saw the man grimace. “Surely.” Naruto didn’t like the mocking he heard in the man’s tone. “Anyway,” the leader continued, “you have not fully answered my question. Do you know who I am?”

“What good is the name of a traitor?”

The dark-haired man came closer. The man with the deep red hair next to him gave a wary look. “As good as yours, it would seem.” The man examined his sword idly, as though he were bored.

“I am no traitor,” Naruto said gruffly. “I am a direct descendant of Ashura. I am rooted to this land.”

Finally, the man lowered his sword. His eyes grew wide and in the instant it took Naruto to blink, he was watching one of his own men flail around on the strange wooden horse. Looking around frantically, Naruto felt the strong presence of fire near him. Sweat was trickling down from the back of his neck more profusely than it had been before. _Hot hot_ apprehension was in him as he turned his head slowly to face the place where his man had been sitting before.

There stood the leader, his eyes on the horse he must have just dismounted. It was calm and leaned into his touch. The man turned to Naruto and gave him a wide grin that edged on menacing. “You are not the only one rooted to this land, _boy_. You hold that sword and know not what to do with it. Just like Hashirama. A _fool_.” The man drew the gunbai from behind his back and held the neck while he put the large end to the grass. “Did they really not tell you?”

“Did who not tell me what?” Naruto felt frantic. How did this man know anything? Who was he, to say that he was rooted to the land? “What do you know? Who are you?”

The man clicked his tongue and handled the chain of the gunbai delicately. “Poor thing,” he said, still mocking. “I would say to ask your mother, but she doesn’t know either.”

Naruto was about to ask _what_ his mother didn’t know, but the next time blinked, he was sweating in Sasuke’s bed. She was standing over him with terror in her eyes, and Naruto realized that her hands were gripping his arm tight. Outside, the rain had turned from thunderous to peaceful. 

“Oh, gods,” Sasuke breathed, “you’re awake.” Naruto wiped at his eyes groggily. His hair was stuck to his forehead. He felt a bit grimy. His eyes went from Sasuke’s hands on him to her face. Her cheeks were ruddy, and her hair was wet.

“How long have you been trying to wake me up? How long were you gone? How long has it been?” Naruto asked sleepily. Sasuke wouldn’t let him sit up. She was moving around the room fast, going from her basin to the bed again to lay something cold and wet over Naruto’s forehead.

“I was away for only an hour,” Sasuke said. Naruto found that the fact that she was taking care of him touched him deeply. This was an emotion he’d never felt before, but he was distracted from it by the worry on Sasuke’s face. “You scared me. I shook you for at least three minutes.”

Rather than let Naruto sit up, Sasuke kicked her shoes off and quickly redressed in clothes that weren’t wet before joining him in the bed again.

“You scared _me_. You can’t just do that, leave and not tell me where you’re going. I… you went outside?” Naruto’s eyebrows drew together and he distracted himself from his chastising.

“Let’s just worry about you, this time,” Sasuke said hastily. “What were you dreaming about?”

Naruto pursed his lips as he tried to remember. There had been strange people, and Madara’s gunbai, and a man telling him that he didn’t know anything. Naruto shrugged. “It didn’t make sense. I… don’t remember.”

“Which is it?” Sasuke was annoyed with Naruto’s attempt to lie.

“It was just a fever dream, or something. It was nonsense.” Naruto winced when Sasuke removed the rag from his forehead to feel it with the back of her hand. 

“You’re not going anywhere today,” Sasuke said decisively. “Luck that we aren’t in the East. You’d surely be summoned to listen to some sort of folly. Here, at least, you may rest.” Sasuke laid the damp cloth back over Naruto’s forehead and made sure that it was straight.

“And where will you be?” 

“Right here… where else?”

Naruto reached for Sasuke’s hand, and though she was hesitant, she allowed him to twine their fingers together. “I didn’t mean to insult you,” Naruto said. “I wouldn’t ever want you to think that I… care. About what the others have said.”

Sasuke frowned. “What the others have said?” she repeated, confused. “Who has spoken? And on what?” She ran a hand through her drying hair before glancing at the ends of it again. When he felt better, Naruto would get her hair cut for her.

“My mother, my aunt, my grandmother… I’m sure your mother has said the words, as well.”

“Not to trust you, yes,” Sasuke nodded. “Though briefly, in passing. She seems not to care one lick what I do, and especially not now that I have been sold away. She only has her darling son to worry about. It’s all she’s ever dreamed of.” Sasuke’s tone had turned bitter.

“You have not been sold.” Naruto held their twined hands to his heart. “You still give me reason to think that you do not like me, sometimes.”

Sasuke snorted. “Good. It is not wise to be too comfortable.”

“You can get comfortable with me.”

Naruto enjoyed watching Sasuke’s face turn red at his words. Even when she moved away to round the bed, Naruto could see her cheeks growing more and more pink. By the time she was on the other side, he thought that he could feel the heat from the red of her ears. “You say such suave words. It does surprise me that I am not in love with you yet.”

“You give me time. And promise to always listen to my words.”

“I will listen,” Sasuke yawned. She tucked herself into Naruto’s waiting arm, and this time it was her that reached for his hand. “But not right now. No more talking, or I'll set this room on fire.”

Naruto didn’t know why the thought didn’t bother him so much. To be with Sasuke was enough that he didn’t think he cared about death. Not if it was by her hand. She would make it sweet. Naruto heard Sasuke’s breathing even out and he closed his eyes, too. He hoped that up close, when her walls were truly down, that she wouldn’t burn him. Because he already knew that he would let her.

“Naruto?” Sasuke’s voice was small because she was near sleep.

“My princess,” Naruto answered. 

“To be clear, I do _not_ love you.”

Naruto grinned into the falling light of the afternoon. “I don’t love you, either.” Oh, but did his heart flutter as she shifted so that her head was tucked beneath his chin. 


	11. If I Told You Once, I Told You Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hashimada had to come, and soon... i myself was getting restless
> 
> i can love you - mary j blige ft lil kim

**_Madara_ **

“And so,” Hashirama’s father bellowed, “we stand here today to join Hashirama of Senju with Mito of Uzumaki.”

Madara didn’t understand why anyone would _clap_ for this. From where she sat in the front row, she caught the way Hashirama’s eyes cut to her. Madara smirked at her lap and allowed her anger to be quelled, if only for a few seconds. Her seat was a nice vantage point for his face, anyway. She watched as Butsuma handed Mito and Hashirama each some folded up stationary, which Madara realized were their vows. Her fist clenched in her lap. Next to her, Izuna put a hand on her arm. Madara glanced at him and rolled her eyes at the way he raised an eyebrow. She could handle herself, she wouldn’t really kill or maim anyone today. The only reason she was even allowed to be here was because she had given a Promise of Goodwill to the people a few days ago. It was the first Promise in all of the realm since Indra had had to issue one decades ago, because he had annexed a part of the East without Ashura’s permission. It had been an annoying hassle, but at least the people’s faith was restored in her. Or, really. No one had enough support to try to get her tried or convicted. 

Mito cleared her throat after she’d unfolded the paper. “Dear Hashirama,” she began, her voice all soft and wistful. Madara closed one eye and wondered how fast Mito’s hair would light up if she shot a ball of fire at her. 

“Through these few weeks,” Mito continued, “I feel that I have come to know your heart. I see you as a man who wants nothing more than to see this world at peace, and I admire your drive to make this happen.”

A few weeks. Madara refrained from snorting. Hashirama had been hers since the day they met a decade ago. A few weeks and Mito still did not know Hashirama’s heart. She couldn’t, or else she would _know_ that Madara dwelt there and always would. 

“I want you to know that in our life together, we will do great things. Bringing together East Konoha and Uzushio is only the beginning of the blessing that our union will be to this realm.” Mito let her hands fall from where she had been holding the paper close to her face. “And I… didn’t write this down,” she said with less confidence. Madara found herself leaning forward slightly.

Mito looked abashed. “I want Kaguya and everyone to know that I love you, Senju Hashirama.” An _aw_ swept through the crowd that made Madara sick. She thought she might vomit at the softness in Hashirama’s expression.

Butsuma turned to his son then and laid a strong hand on his shoulder. “Hashirama, it is your turn to recite what you have written to Mito.”

Hashirama unfolded his paper carefully, and Madara could see the strain in his eyes as he read.

“To Mito. While I have only gotten to know you for a moon or so, I have come to enjoy your company. Your personality is unlike that of any woman I have ever met.” Hashirama glanced at Mito’s face. She nodded in encouragement, and so he continued. “I have also come to see that you are, to put it lightly, a strong-willed woman.” The people laughed. “Perhaps it is the wind in you, but you do not bow easily. I feel that life at your side will be an experience I wouldn’t have with anyone else.”

Madara pinched the bridge of her nose lightly before reaching up to adjust her large crown. She gave a small _hmph_. This was disgusting and it was too hot out here for this to keep going. These _words_. She grit her teeth as Hashirama continued his prattling about alliances and uniting the two countries of East Konoha and Uzushio. It was stupid.

When Hashirama was finished, Madara relished in the fact that he had made no such confession of love as Mito. He knew better than to say words untrue in the presence of Kaguya. And Madara.

Madara closed her eyes tight when Mito leaned forward to kiss Hashirama. A wave of revulsion washed over her, and she had to hold onto her chair beneath herself for support. Izuna noticed her struggle and put his hand over hers in her lap. “It’s over, Ma,” Izuna leaned close to whisper. Madara cracked her eyes open and glanced up to see that Hashirama and Mito were disappearing from her view.

“I need to lie down,” Madara said in a strained voice. Izuna helped her stand just as the rest of the party was beginning to follow Mito and Hashirama back to the castle. 

“Is it the child?” Izuna whispered. He held Madara by her shoulders on their way up to the Senju palace.

“Do hush,” Madara said. “No one knows about this.” She laid a hand over her belly. There was no one around, but being in this environment made her paranoid. And dizzy. But the dizzy part wasn’t the environment.

“But how does he feel?” Izuna pressed.

“ _No one_ ,” Madara repeated. She didn’t have the energy to care about Izuna’s chastising. 

“You have not told him? Madara, surely you know better than this?” Izuna had no right to be so incredulous.

“I have not had the time. I have been cycling through vomiting my life away, wishing that he had burned in that fire, and crying,” Madara shot back. Izuna frowned. 

“Crying?”

Madara glared at him from the side of her eyes. “Imagine having to watch the man you are devoted to slide a ring across a wind-woman's finger. Imagine viewing them take steps as man and wife, knowing that you bear that man a child who may never live up to their full potential. Would you not shed a tear?”

Izuna grimaced. “I suppose,” was all he could say. He let the subject rest, then. It was not lost on Madara the way that her brother’s expression had changed, but she thought that if she opened her mouth again she would start dry heaving, so she left it shut.

It was going to be fine, anyway. She would tell Hashirama when the time was right. Master Hyuga had told her that letting this secret be known before she had reached four moons could spell disaster for herself and the child. Izuna was her brother, so he didn’t count. “The father does not count, either,” Master Hyuga had interjected, but Madara didn’t care. She did not want to share this with Hashirama while he was planning to be wed to another woman. It mattered not how little he claimed to love her; in the eyes of the court and the realm, they were in love. And Madara was _nothing_ , nothing to him. Why should she share him this one bit of joy? It was hers, right now.

  
  
  
Before tonight, Madara had only ever begged from one man. 

She had wanted to learn how to harness her magic, but Tajima had been adamant that it wasn’t what a woman should be worried about. “You will be a princess one day,” he would say, putting a strong hand on top of her small head. “Princesses don’t breathe fire.”

“Oh, but _please_ , Father,” Madara had pleaded, holding her hands together. “I want to make you so proud. It is only Izuna and I now, and I know that you wished for more from us.” Madara hung her head then. “I do not want to be a disappointment just because I am not a boy.” There had been other brothers, but now only Madara and Izuna were left. Tajima paid so little attention to Izuna as it were; Madara just wanted her father to see that she could be the warrior he had always wanted to leave his legacy to.

Tajima shook his head. “You could never disappoint me, as long as you do the things you’re meant to do.” He leaned down from the grand old throne to kiss her forehead. “Go find me your brother. It’s about time for him to take his face out of those books for today.”

Of course, Madara had learned her magic anyway. Maybe that was part of the reason why she was in here, begging from Senju Hashirama. If she hadn’t ever learned her magic, she wouldn’t have been able to set her castle on fire and destroyed that throne her father had once heralded.

“Please,” Madara murmured close to his ear, her tone gentle but her hands rough as they ran over his bare chest. She needed it more than air tonight, more than life. She needed to know.

“What are you asking for? Anything, anything.” Hashirama’s voice was strained. He took in a deep breath when Madara sat up straight. She felt it, too, but she would not show him. Not until he said what she wanted to hear. 

“Tell me that you love me,” Madara whispered, shifting over Hashirama and fighting the flutter of her own eyelids. So deep was he, within her and within her heart. Hashirama’s eyes watched Madara as she ran a slow hand into her hair.

“I love you,” Hashirama said. Easy, like nothing. Madara leaned down again to get as close as she could. 

“Say it again.”

“I love you.” Hashirama moved his hips up against Madara’s then, causing her to bite on his bottom lip. A shiver ran through the both of them when he pressed a spot in her that had her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Tell me,” Madara cut herself off with a gasp. “Tell me you will only love me.”

“For—ever,” Hashirama ground out. Madara could feel him beginning to lose control, if the way that his hands gripped at her hips was any indication. His rhythm inside of her was starting to lose its cadence and become sloppy.

“No.” Madara shook her head. She held Hashirama’s face tight by his chin so that he was forced to look at her. “Don’t reply, repeat it. Mean it.” She ran her thumb over his lips.

“I will only love you,” Hashirama repeated, his lips brushing her thumb as he spoke weakly. “Forever, the rest of my life, gods.” Madara heard the quake of his voice and she knew that there was nothing that would stop him from reaching his highest point. She wanted it, needed it to happen. She welcomed the slippery feeling of it, and it was that feeling that pushed her over her own edge. Hashirama’s nails were digging so deep into her skin, and they were the only thing keeping her from floating adrift like an unmoored boat as she came down from her climax.

When Hashirama’s body stopped shaking, Madara slid off of his lap and let out a deep breath. Upon her inhale she smelled nothing but herself and Hashirama, and the rose scent that she had made sure to have put in her bath water before she’d slipped in here. For as long as she could have it, she wanted no trace of Uzumaki Mito in this bed. Hashirama was still breathing heavily as he turned on his side to watch her stand and relocate to the vanity across the room. She wore a thin little thing that tied together in the front, sheer and just barely there. She left the tie open because it was too much of a hassle, these days.

“Why do you always attempt to do that on your own?” Hashirama sat up and clicked his tongue. “You haven’t combed your own hair successfully for ten years.”

“Oh,” Madara said, setting down the comb, “and I suppose that you are the worldly expert on my hair?”

Hashirama pulled a robe on and crossed the room to her. “I spend enough time with my face in it. My fingers. I’d like to think I know a bit about this mane.” He picked up the comb Madara had discarded and began to run it through her hair, starting at the ends that nearly touched the floor. 

“When will she be back?” Madara fretted with the ties of her thin bed dress in her lap while she let Hashirama comb her hair (which had been her plan all along.) His movements stopped for a moment when Madara spoke. 

“Mito is set to return tomorrow,” Hashirama said solemnly. “She brings news with her about the status of your new palace.”

Madara looked at Hashirama in the mirror while he focused on her hair. The new palace. Of course, the Uchiha needed a new seat, since Madara had destroyed the last one. She had not expected things to move so quickly; by the time it was obvious to the world what was going on, she’d be away from Hashirama again. And _married_ to some insignificant man that would hold nothing over her but a name. The thought of being far away from Hashirama at a time when she would need him the most in her entire life made Madara feel a twinge of guilt. It was an ill-placed emotion that she did not experience often. She put a hand to her stomach and breathed in a steadying breath. It was alright, she told herself. He loved her. He would love only her, for the rest of his life. 

“Hashi,” Madara began tentatively. Hashirama stopped combing her hair again and their eyes caught in the mirror. 

“Yes?” Hashirama seemed to be able to sense Madara’s shift in tone. Her voice was softer now.

“I must tell you something.” Madara let her eyes fall to where her hand rested over her belly again. “You are my one and only,” she said, blinking a few times to keep herself together. Suddenly, this task did not seem so easy as just saying words. She forced herself to continue after she paused. “You are the world. There is nothing left without you. I’d simply die.”

“I feel the same,” Hashirama said. He forced his attention back to her hair and not on the way her hand was splayed over her bare skin. “You are bringing me worry.”

“I…” Madara hated this, this hesitance she felt. She was not supposed to have any fear. She _didn’t._ It wasn’t fear, she supposed. Some word that she didn’t know. No, apprehension. That was it. What if he didn’t love her anymore? What if he decided that it was just too _much_ , and he decided to choose Mito the pig after all? What if he thought she’d done this on purpose, just to keep him with her? Even through all of her doubts, it wasn’t a choice she could make. It was going to happen, so he needed to know. Secretive as she might have been, there were some things that even Madara felt were too far. That, and she wanted this guilt to be gone. It was making her frown and upsetting her stomach.

“You?” Hashirama echoed. “Please tell me what is on your mind, Ma.”

Madara closed her eyes briefly before turning so that she was facing Hashirama. She wasn’t sure how it wasn’t obvious to him. Her body was so _different_ now. Izuna had said that he couldn’t see it either, though. Maybe that was for the better. Madara reached for Hashirama’s hand that did not hold the comb and replaced her own with his. She looked at his face, his deep brown eyes, and then she closed her own when she felt the stirring.

Hashirama dropped to his knees in front of Madara and placed the comb unceremoniously on the vanity so that he could lay both of his hands over her skin. “How long?” he whispered, as though his voice would wake the baby up. 

“Four moons, four and a half,” Madara replied. She tried to sound cool, but she remembered the exact night that it must have been. One week before she had demolished her home in her fit. Her eyes grew impossibly soft as she watched Hashirama trace the places where the baby’s foot tapped lightly against her skin. When Hashirama’s eyes came back up to meet Madara’s, he was crying.

“A baby, my own…” Hashirama let his voice trail off in awe. He ran a hand over Madara’s belly slowly, as though gauging the change. “How did I not see before? And of course. Your temper—”

Madara flashed sharp eyes in Hashirama’s direction that caused him to stop that stream of thought. She changed the subject before he said something that he shouldn’t. “I did not know what to do, what to think. To know that you would be wed to that beast.” Madara shook her head. “I did not know whether or not it was worth it.”

“But?” Hashirama sat back on his heels. “What made you change your mind?”

“I love you,” Madara said simply. “So much it hurts. I wouldn’t ever allow myself to live if I had gone through with that. No matter how much it hurt me to see it, to _watch_ you say those words to her.” Madara’s hands clenched into fists. “I could have killed her right then. But then, there would be nothing left of you and I.” She unfurled her hands and laid them over her belly again. “And I have decided that you and I are more important than she. You, and I, and this being. In the court of the public, we are not a family. But you are…” Madara didn’t think she had to say it. She hated herself for the tears that were pricking the sides of her eyes.

Hashirama’s expression was dreamy. It was as though Madara hadn’t just threatened the life of his wife and herself in the same breath. Madara stood then, bringing Hashirama up with her. 

“This being,” Hashirama repeated. Madara put her hands on the small of her back so that he could see better. There was a dark line forming beneath her navel that she had at first hated, but had come to accept. It was the price to pay to cement hers and Hashirama’s legacy, their love. He traced that line absently while he looked into her eyes. It made her shiver.

“They will be the most important person in this country, on this Earth.” Hashirama leaned down to press a kiss to Madara’s forehead. She closed her eyes against the sensation, but opened them again when she felt Hashirama draw away from her. 

“But I must leave.” Madara said the words that she knew were floating around in Hashirama’s head. “When your wife returns with news of my new home. It is probably near finished by now.”

Hashirama sat on the edge of his bed and nodded wordlessly. Madara watched his mind work behind his eyes. “If there only was a way to keep you here.” Hashirama broke his silence with anguish in his voice. “Being so far away will make it too hard to sneak over. Impossible.” Hashirama sighed deeply. He looked to Madara with pleading eyes. “And must you wed that man?”

“You are a fool,” Madara replied, though she relished in Hashirama’s jealousy. There wasn’t a word for the feeling of knowing that he was going to be just as upset as she had been. She came to stand before him again. She did not want to join him on the bed and get too comfortable. Surely, they would fall back to what they’d been doing before, and she would sleep here. It wouldn’t bode well when Mito came back to find her in here, and that was just the sneaky thing that the Uzumaki woman would do; arrive so early that Madara wouldn’t have a chance to retreat. 

“How? You are allowed to burn down your ancestral seat, but I cannot harbor commonplace jealousy?” Hashirama reached to touch Madara, but she took a step back.

“If I do not wed this man, and as soon as possible, then where would this being have come from?” Madara ran her fingers over the dark line under her navel. “ _You_ , and that would only spell death for someone. Anyone. Everyone.” 

“You cannot think that they would kill us all?”

Madara snorted. “I would kill _them_. You belong to me, Senju Hashirama, can you not fathom this? Your heart, your mind, your body, your soul. Mine to keep.”

Hashirama did not protest and instead leaned forward to reach for Madara’s wrist. He pulled her closer and ran his other hand over her arm gently. The softness of his actions did not match his words. “If this is so, then prove it. Show me why I am locked in your heart forever.”

“Wait, wait,” Madara said quickly, just as Hashirama was trying to draw her down onto his lap. “Do you know how serious this is?”

“A new life is the _most_ serious,” Hashirama said with a nod. “There is nothing that matters more.”

“And so you know that you cannot tell anyone?”

At this, Hashirama’s face fell. “… No one? Not my brother, even?”

Madara shook her head. “Not Tobirama, especially not Tobirama. Damn Tobirama to a shadow-realm. I would not be surprised if he stood upon the highest tower and proclaimed it to the people. You,” Madara pointed a finger at Hashirama’s chest, “are cheating on your wife. The world would not let it stand.”

Hashirama looked away then. “You do not have to say it so plainly,” he mumbled.

“How much more convoluted would you like me to speak it? You are committing adultery,” Madara said. She felt Hashirama’s grip on her wrists tighten, and she gave in to what she knew he was asking for. 

“Why must you say it?” Hashirama laid his forehead against Madara’s. His voice was hopeless.

“So that you know how serious to take this. You, I, them. We could all die.” Madara pressed her lips to Hashirama’s temple. “But I will not be had because I love you. I do not care what they say, or what they do. I love you, Senju Hashirama. Forever.” Madara moved her lips to Hashirama’s forehead. 

“Today.” She let her mouth reach his cheek.

“Tomorrow.” Madara slotted their lips together in a hot kiss that left her mind spinning when Hashirama pulled away to breathe. His hands were roaming her skin greedily. Every inch of her belonged to him. She felt something stirring in her that was not the child when Hashirama put a hand to her chest. 

“Yesterday,” Madara breathed weakly. Hashirama drew the life out of her when he slid inside. She was so open for him, her entire being. He was in her in so many ways. Madara gripped Hashirama’s shoulders hard, digging in her nails as she moved to meet him halfway. 

Madara grit her teeth as she tried to speak her last thought. “In this life and in all my others,” she ground out, before Hashirama kissed her again to keep her from moaning too loud. Forever, forever, forever. No matter how she existed, Madara would always be for this man.

Hashirama put tingles down Madara’s spine. He held her hips so tight that it was beginning to hurt, but she needed it. His eyes were on fire when she met them briefly, only to close her own again when he kissed her. He was already shuddering when her body began to grip him tight on the inside. Madara pushed Hashirama so that he was lying flat on the bed. She liked to look at his face when she finished, to watch him react to her body’s final plea for mercy before losing all control. Hashirama moved one of his hands from her hip to her stomach. 

“Amazing,” Hashirama whispered breathily. “Beautiful, from the gods.” He kept saying things like this, how breathtaking Madara was, a marvel, incredible. Madara’s toes were curling when Hashirama ran his hand over the swell of her stomach. Oh, she thought, she would _cry_ , but she came instead. He sat up again and held her body tight to his while he moved frantically, searching desperately to finish. He choked out a groan against her ear that made her whole body feel electric. 

Madara couldn’t have stood again if she tried. Hashirama laid her down next to him carefully. It took no time for her to wrap herself around him so that he could not escape her. “What about Mito?” Hashirama huffed out in broken breaths. 

“What about her?” Madara sneered lightly before closing her eyes again. “You belong to me. She knows that.” Madara yawned and pushed her face into Hashirama’s neck. “Do you not?” 

“I do,” Hashirama said quietly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and put his other hand on her belly. 

“In this life and the next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while i had originally planned to have interlude (flashback) chapter every 10, i have decided to switch to every 5 so that the stories from the past connect more to the present 
> 
> it is so fun to write these dumb asses
> 
> and by the way, this is indeed chapter ten lol. the first chapter was a prologue! before anyone says anything


	12. Not Falling Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one say it, i know i missed kushina’s birthday and i am also just as upset as you all smh :,( but here i am again! i don’t usually write “action” so parts of this one are a little eh to me, but you let me know what you thought!
> 
> not falling apart - maroon 5

**_Mikoto_ **

For the very first time in her life, Mikoto regretted something that she had done. 

All day, she had to watch Kushina flouncing about the castle, knowing that the frown on Kushina’s face was her fault. She had to endure Kushina’s venomous looks when she spoke, only to be ignored otherwise. She had to watch Kushina make merriment with other people at dinner, but look upon her with cold eyes.

It had been for her own good, Mikoto reasoned with herself for the fifth time. She _had_ to turn Kushina away. All of this talk of Obito was bringing something to the front of Mikoto’s mind that she had been trying to forget from the moment she met Kushina. No one else would see it, even _she_ couldn’t see it, but she knew it. It dwelt in her mind. She wished Madara had never told her. Mikoto held a handful of her plain dress in a fist as she closed her eyes tight and hung her head. 

“Mother,” she whispered, anguished and confused, “why would he do this? And why have you left me to deal with this alone?”

Her mind turned to Obito again, the youth in his expression the last time she’d seen him. It had been the day he was married to Karin. Mikoto couldn’t believe that the Senju had convinced Obito to stay in the East, let alone that Madara would have allowed it to happen, either. But Mother had been away, taking care of an infant Itachi. Mikoto supposed that Madara had had new things to worry about then, fresh things that wouldn’t disappoint her. She tried not to sob as she thought about Obito’s wide grin and the earnestness with which he spoke to his new wife. She was so _small,_ Mikoto had remembered. Seeing her now, as a full grown woman, was strange. She wondered if the poison had gotten into her, too. But, it couldn’t have; it is slow and feels so sweet, and Obito had left her within three moons with no baby, not even the ring he’d given her. She was bitter now, Mikoto could feel it. 

It was a surprise when Obito ran away. Mikoto had been convinced that Obito had loved Karin, at least from the way that he’d talked about her. He would detail to Mikoto the grand plans he had for the two of them on the nights before they’d journeyed to the East for his wedding. 

“We will have two children,” Obito mumbled. “Ah, three! Three. And I will cater to her, make her smile when she is sad and lift her when she has doubts.” His voice held an idealism that Mikoto had never heard from him before. Up until the point that he’d met Karin, he had been all about calculations and tactics. His boyish attitude had faded when their uncle Izuna had passed. 

Mikoto wiped at her eyes as the rain continued to fall outside. It was useless to cry unless she knew for sure that the person was Obito. What would she do if he came to her? Surely his goal would be to destroy them. Mikoto shook her head. The same thoughts plaguing her wouldn’t help her think of a plan. She needed these Senju _out_ of here. Everything about them was cramping the things Itachi was planning to protect his own family, and Mikoto didn’t like them to begin with. _Naruto_ swindling her daughter out of her wits and her right mind; _Karin_ serving as a reminder of Obito’s blasphemy, because it was against the laws of the realm to leave her the way he had, without the proper processes; _Kushina_ making Mikoto weak in her knees even when she was trying to maintain a general disdain for her. 

She spent a lot of time looking out this window, she realized as she stood from it. Maybe she was looking for something. Perhaps she was just imagining that Obito would show himself, and they could talk about it, and she could convince him not to upset the balance of the realm the way she was positive he would attempt to. She would do anything to keep her son on the throne. She did not care what it took, what she would have to do, what ends she would have to meet.

Sleeping alone was Mikoto’s least favorite thing. She had nothing to distract her from the whirlwind of thoughts crashing about in her head, and there was nothing that could make her heart stop hurting except to feel Kushina wrapping around her. Mikoto attempted to close her eyes and not think so much, but it was impossible. She sat up angrily and shook her head. It was useless to try to sleep right now. She had already taken a bath, and her mind was running too fast to read or try to write. All she could think to do was walk around these quarters and hope that she tired herself out. 

The rain had skewed her thoughts of the time. It was a little later than she’d thought it was, if the low-burning sconces in the corridors were any indication. She made sure to dress warmly, because it was easy enough as it were to feel chills in this place. Rain only made it worse. 

As Mikoto passed the doors next to hers, she thought about what Itachi had said to her that morning. It was _stupid_ , but she couldn’t have told him that. Of course fragile Naruto was not the source of the sounds Itachi had heard. Sasuke was far too willful, and she didn’t let anything happen to her that she wasn’t ready for. Well, before this entire betrothal had begun, at least. Mikoto did not think Naruto had it in him, anyway, but there was no way she could have revealed what Itachi had really heard. Mikoto felt her face reddening in the dim, swaying light of the sconces. She hadn’t thought she was _that_ loud, but she couldn’t be surprised. Kushina was the only person to ever drive her over the edge. Anyway, there was no risk of that tonight. Kushina was staunch and bull-headed, and she would hold onto this until Mikoto apologized. No matter if it took days or years.

There weren’t very many places Mikoto could go now that she was an adult, and the queen mother, no less. Before, she could squeeze into just about any space that it pleased her to squeeze into. She and Obito had found every crevice and cranny that one might think to hide in all those years ago. There were places Mikoto had liked better than others, but she was grown now and probably couldn’t fit. And anyway, she wouldn’t want anyone to think her childish for sneaking into the little hidden places in the palace like she was a girl again. She had an image.

But there was one place that Mikoto had kept from Obito, one place that she had made sure to hold from him. She didn’t know why, but she _couldn’t_ have told him. He’d ruin it. This place, at least, had a proper door. No one would find her, because no one else knew about it, and the door had no handle. It opened by magic.

Mikoto hated the fact that it was raining as she traipsed down, down, down the stairs and out of the royal quarters. With everything going on, it was a lot safer to stay inside, but she would only be a few minutes. Just until her mind calmed down. She had to walk a bit in the rain to get to the secret room, but at least there was a path so that her feet didn’t get muddy. She would leave no tracks coming to or going from here.

Just as she reached where she knew the door would be, Mikoto stopped short. She brought a trembling hand to her lips and shook her head. “No, no,” she mumbled to herself. She closed the gap between herself and the door, only to find that her fear was true: it was _open._

“Who—? No. It’s not possible!” Mikoto whispered frantically, putting a hand to the wet stone. It was open, there was no mistaking it. There was no light inside the room when Mikoto approached. She stood rigidly and strained her eyes to see if she could make out any figures inside. 

“Hello?” Mikoto’s voice was soft, as though anyone would be able to hear her through this storm. No one was awake, probably, but she couldn’t be sure. And she was scared, too afraid to speak any louder and possibly upset whoever might be inside.

But there was no answer. Mikoto closed her eyes in a panicked sigh. Whoever had opened this door might still be inside, she knew, but she had to take the chance. Especially now. There was something that she needed to see. Taking careful steps, Mikoto peered around herself every few seconds. There was no one on the second floor watching her, and there was no one on the ground, either. From where she could see, all of the lights were off or low. It seemed to just be her. She wished that she had paid more attention when Mother had been teaching herself and Obito about magic. She also wished that she’d brought some sort of light with her.

Oh, Mikoto thought. She knew a _little_. Enough to whisper a few words and blow into her hand so that she had a weak ball in her palm when she opened it.

“Is there anyone in here?” 

Mikoto pushed the door slightly with her free hand and waved her other one in front of her to light her way. Now that she had light, she could see that the room looked basically undisturbed. She knew where everything belonged, and nothing seemed out of place. Mikoto closed the door behind her and sealed it again once she had stepped all the way inside the room and looked about herself more thoroughly. 

The papers were still where they had been. The lantern, the books, the desk, the chair; it was all in order. Mikoto let go of her fire and allowed it to hang in the air near the door so that she could use both of her hands. She opened the first drawer in the desk. It still held all of the small trinkets that Mikoto knew had come from Hashirama. She sighed in deep sorrow as she picked a few of them from inside the drawer. Madara had told her the stories of Obito’s father and how he had loved her, but had been stolen from her by fate and an Uzumaki pig. Mikoto shook her head as she ran her fingers over the ruby necklace, the heart-shaped rock, the letters, the random jewelry. Madara had given them to her, as a part of her dying wishes. She wanted Mikoto to know real love. Mikoto bit down hard on her bottom lip as she thought of the state of the relationship between herself and Kushina. There was _nothing_ more real than this. She wished sometimes that it was not so intense, but there was no way to soften it. She was in love with Kushina. She had been all her life. She would be when she died.

Mikoto opened the second drawer, where she knew that a copy of hers and her children’s birth documents sat, along with Obito’s original. She had stolen it from the records after he had disappeared. To many people, he did not exist, and she wanted to keep it that way. There was Itachi’s on top, and Sasuke’s after his. Mikoto summoned her fireball closer so that she could read them. She remembered the days she had brought them each into the world with a shudder. Madara had never told her that to love a child would be so excruciating, that the pain would be so indescribable.

Mikoto’s birth document was next, and she looked at it carefully. There was Madara’s name, and her father. She barely remembered him; he had been disposed of quickly. She felt nothing towards him. Only Mother stoked any emotions in her heart. She ran a finger over Madara’s name. More than ever, she wished for her.

Obito’s was on the bottom. Mikoto lifted her own and let out a sharp gasp. “Gods, Kaguya, _please_!” she whispered desperately. Flinging the other papers in the air, she rummaged through every drawer in a frenzy. Perhaps it was underneath the trinkets? No, that drawer held only nonsense. Maybe she had just missed it? She opened the second drawer again to find that it was really empty. Beneath the book? No. On the floor? No, no, the only papers on the floor were the ones she’d just thrown. But it had to be here, it _had_ to. Had she not hidden it well enough? Could it just be lost in here?

Mikoto stood from where she had knelt onto the floor and hugged herself. If the wall hadn’t been behind her, she would have toppled over. She was weak as she blew more fire onto the light above her head to illuminate more of the room. She thought she was already getting sick from the rain that was trickling down her neck, mixing with her cold sweat. It didn’t matter, her body was running on high and she was only worried about one thing.

Someone had opened this door, gone inside of that drawer, and stolen Obito’s birth document. In the wrong hands, the world would know not only that he existed, but that Senju Hashirama was his father. 

Mikoto slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees after she drew them to her chest. She sobbed once into her knees before whining shakily. Who would do it? Who could know the words to say to open this door? She had never told anyone, _anyone_ about it. She had never written it down. She kept it from Mother, from Izuna, from Obito, from her children, from Fugaku. She’d kept it from Kushina, so there was no way that she would know, and that meant that her kin didn’t know, either. Who, _who_? And who would want that? Who besides someone aiding Obito’s campaign of usurpation, therefore someone who was against her and Itachi? Maybe it would have been more wise to simply destroy the stupid piece of paper. Mikoto heard thunder outside, and it matched the reckless beating of her heart. It would be a disaster. 

Kushina would find out that Obito was her brother, too.   
  


“Wh-what are you doing here?” 

Mikoto’s eyes must have been red by the time she had stumbled back up to her room. She was cold and panicky, but at least the rain had calmed down. It wasn't beating down so hard on the obsidian walls of the castle when Mikoto arrived at her chambers. She was confused to see Kushina standing in front of her door, tapping her foot.

“Oh, I thought—” Kushina cut herself off with a frown and a concerned expression. “Where have you been? And why do you look so upset?”

Mikoto shook her head fast. “I’m fine, I was nowhere,” she said in one breath. Kushina quirked an eyebrow. 

“Were you in the rain? You look so cold.” Kushina pretended not to hear what Mikoto had mumbled and came to her. Mikoto drew herself away as though Kushina would burn her if they touched.

“No, do not touch me!” Mikoto said loudly. Kushina shushed her manically and put a hand over her mouth while she wrapped her other arm around Mikoto’s waist. 

“Do you want the entire world to hear you?” Kushina whispered harshly. Her words so close to Mikoto’s ear made it hard to think, but she still had some resolve. She fought Kushina’s grip even as Kushina used her foot to open the door. Mikoto was shoved inside the room, and as soon as the hand was off of her mouth she started babbling about how terrified she was, repeating _who, who, who?_ in a low voice. 

“Please, Mi, calm down,” Kushina pleaded. She ran her hands over Mikoto’s wet hair, down until she was holding Mikoto’s face gently. Mikoto wished that she could have closed her eyes to escape the concern she saw in Kushina’s. 

“I’m fine,” Mikoto insisted. “I am fine.” She tried to get free again, and this time Kushina let her. She stood back and watched as Mikoto shuffled over to her vanity to begin combing her wet hair out. 

“Will you tell me where you’ve been?” Kushina tried. 

“No,” Mikoto replied. “Will you tell _me_ why you were standing outside my door like a lost fool?”

Kushina grumbled to herself, something that Mikoto couldn’t hear, before she spoke up.

“I am lost and I am a fool for you, Uchiha Mikoto.” 

Mikoto turned to look at Kushina with tired eyes as she continued fighting with her hair. “What is that supposed to be? An apology, are you trying to say something?”

“I am not saying sorry to you when it was you who pushed me away,” Kushina said gruffly. She crossed the room and snatched the comb from Mikoto. “I am simply… letting it go. I would have expected an apology from you, in the past. But we are getting much too old to do this, this back-and-forth. I love you, I love you too much to even attempt to hate you for any longer.”

Mikoto crossed her arms. “I love you,” she said first, “but you cannot be so risky,” she added on. “Imagine if my son had decided to investigate the noises he’d heard—”

Kushina abruptly stopped her combing. “He heard us? What did he say to you?”

Mikoto shrugged, even though it was not something to shrug about. “He said that he heard something, and I assured him that I had no idea what he was going on about. Then, he said that he thought it was Sasuke and Naruto. I tried to tell him that was ridiculous; look at Naruto. Look at _Sasuke_. But he was insistent. At least he does not think it was us. The thought did not cross his mind.”

Kushina sighed, but it wasn’t relief. Something was troubling her, but she remained silent. For a while, it was just Mikoto whining that Kushina was pulling too hard, and the sounds of their breathing. That was until Mikoto started sneezing. 

“You went outside,” Kushina stated. “Might you have caught something?”

Mikoto shook her head minutely; as much as she could while Kushina was still combing her hair. “No, I will be fine by tomorrow,” Mikoto said, though she did not feel fine. There was a chill in her that did not match the heat that was radiating from her face. But Kushina did not need to worry about her, she did not want to have any extra attention on her right now. She was still thinking about the fact that Obito’s birth document was missing. Where in Indra’s name could it _be?_ Mikoto was beginning to feel panicky again. 

Kushina took notice of the way Mikoto’s breathing picked up. She stood back from Mikoto and placed the comb down. “You should rest, but… your clothes are wet, too wet for sleeping.” She held Mikoto’s hand as she stood and let the touch linger for a moment. Mikoto’s eyes flitted from where their fingers were joined to Kushina’s soft eyes. 

“I will change,” Mikoto said decisively. She pulled free from Kushina’s loose hold and went to the rack where her clothes were kept. She dressed in something plain and white, something that wouldn’t make her too hot as she slept. When she turned around, she saw that Kushina was moving towards the door. She frowned deeply. “Stay, won’t you?” Her mind was crazy. She wanted Kushina’s company after just needing attention off of herself. But, she also just as much wanted to know what Kushina was hiding in her sighs and troubled expressions. Anything, anything to keep her mind from Obito.

Kushina turned and gave a conflicted sound. “Would that I could,” she said, “but I think that I need some time. There are things in my mind.” Kushina looked toward the floor sadly before turning her eyes to Mikoto’s face again. 

“Things that you cannot tell me?” Mikoto knew that she was _wrong_ for her question. She knew something that she could never tell Kushina, but here she was, begging Kushina to stay and talk to her. Right now, she needed Kushina more than ever. She wanted to be held and she wanted to feel warm.

“I do not want to be a burden,” Kushina said. Mikoto narrowed her eyes. This wasn’t true, it was written in the way that Kushina’s mouth curved and the way her eyes skated across the room before meeting Mikoto’s own again. 

Mikoto climbed into her bed and she wasn’t surprised when Kushina was still standing at the door, her hand on it as though she were stuck. “I thought you were leaving?” Mikoto asked coolly. She ran a hand into her combed hair and quietly admired the way that only Kushina could even mildly tame it. 

Kushina nodded once to herself. “I am,” she said, though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Mikoto. “I do not want your son to get any more untoward notions.”

Mikoto raised an eyebrow. “Why would he? Surely you did not have untoward plans.” She watched with reserved interest as Kushina’s frame shifted away from the door to face her more. _A few more words_ , Mikoto told herself. A few more words were all that it would take for Kushina to give up her attempts to fight herself. Mikoto’s resolve had crumbled to dust the moment Kushina’s fingers began carding into her hair. She did not like being the first one to show weakness.

Kushina’s face grew the slightest pink at Mikoto’s words. “No, not possibly,” she said hastily. “I do not want to further stoke his suspicions.” She said this, but she still came to stand at the edge of the bed. 

“Is that so?” Mikoto reached for Kushina’s wrist, and she was met with no resistance. “I see.” Mikoto sat on her knees so that she was level with Kushina’s chest. “Not even if I…” Mikoto leaned up to press her face to the hot skin of Kushina’s throat, “promise to be quiet?”

“You are incapable,” Kushina said shakily. Her body shivered beneath Mikoto’s grip as her hands came up to hold Kushina’s shoulders. 

“I _promise,_ ” Mikoto repeated. She could feel Kushina beginning to lean down, and she allowed space between them so that it was Kushina’s decision, whether or not to follow. 

Kushina followed. She tried to slot their lips together, but Mikoto shook her head and moved away slightly. “You would not be a burden to me tonight if you would tell me the truth,” she whispered. It displeased her deeply to feel Kushina’s body stiffen over hers. What was she hiding?

“Let it not be about talking,” Kushina said back. She tried to run her fingers into Mikoto’s hair, but by now Mikoto was completely disinterested. She rolled away, and Kushina let her. Mikoto sat up and crossed her arms. 

“What is it that you would not tell me? We have no one but each other to depend on in a time like this. When you leave here, I do not know what I will do. When will I see you again? Would you like our latest, possibly our last memories to be fraught with lies and deception?” Mikoto surprised herself with the harshness of her tone, and the words she said. Could she really say these words, knowing that she held a life-altering secret from Kushina?

She could. She was selfish.

Kushina’s eyes would not meet Mikoto’s. She didn’t seem inclined to tell whatsoever. Instead, she stood from the bed and sighed as though she were troubled while she poured herself something to drink. She leaned against the wine table and took a long sip before she spoke again. “I cannot tell you everything,” Kushina said simply. “We are not children anymore, or common people. We are much more important than that, with much more important secrets. ‘S very good.” Kushina took another swig and Mikoto’s anger mounted. Kushina seemed to take notice, because she held up a finger that had been wrapped around her cup as she smacked her lips together and shook her head. 

“Do you think that I do not know you are hiding secrets, Mi? I know you. I love you, you are within me. As much as I cannot read some parts of you, I have overly read the others.” Kushina set her cup down and Mikoto watched her stride towards the bed once more. She grasped Mikoto’s chin, and Mikoto didn’t try to move away. “Where did you go?”

Mikoto’s prolonged silence was all the answer that Kushina seemed to need. She released Mikoto’s face and ignored the way that Mikoto tried to tug at her arm. 

“What has gotten into you?” Mikoto asked incredulously. She didn’t like displaying so many emotions, but it was hard to keep it all at bay with Kushina. 

“I just know that you lie to me, too,” Kushina said. She was leaving, she was _leaving_. “I am giving you what you give to me.”

“I…”

Mikoto took a deep and steadying breath. 

“I need you.”

Kushina turned from where she was pushing the door open again. This time, though, she only looked over her shoulder. “I need you, too,” Kushina echoed. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

Watching Kushina leave only made the storm in Mikoto’s heart grow more fierce. She sprang from the bed after fisting her hair for a few moments and crossed the room to where Kushina’s discarded wine still sat. Mikoto drained the cup and poured herself another in seconds. Her hands were shaking and she nearly missed her mouth as she brought the goblet up to her lips again.

With nothing to distract her now, Mikoto’s exhausted mind stayed completely fixed on Obito and Kushina. She knew why he would want to tell the world who his parents were; but she didn’t think he’d thought through what would happen. If he revealed that Hashirama had been committing adultery, it would not _help_ him. The rest of the realm might very well find that reason to denounce Hashirama’s rule, any policies he’d enacted, and any descendants of his that might be the head of the Senju house now. In telling, Obito may fully discredit himself.

Of course, that wouldn’t matter if he had enough power to destroy anyone who might oppose him. So what, if a court ruled him illegitimate and therefore unable to rule? It wouldn’t matter if he killed them. He could attempt to wipe out everything that exists and make his own new world. Then maybe he could live up to the idea of him Madara had planted into his head. Mikoto shook her head. She wished that Mother hadn’t told Obito so many times that he was destined to be great. He hadn’t needed to hear it so much as he did. She could not even blame Madara for creating the monster that she was imaging Obito had become, though. She didn’t _know_ what that was about. 

A sudden _whoosh_ went through the room. Mikoto dropped the cup with a loud _clang_ and spilled some of the wine down the front of her gown. The lights went out, leaving her in complete darkness. She shrank against the nearest wall until the sconces lit themselves again, burning at their brightest. Mikoto looked around frantically and wished to Kaguya that all of this stress would go away.

“I should have known it,” came a deep voice from near the window. Mikoto whipped her head around so fast that it hurt. She gasped and fell to her knees. She was too weak to make any sound except for a low cry.

“My dear sister, in love with a Senju.” Obito clicked his tongue. “Mother would be disappointed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to clarify!!
> 
> kushina and obito are siblings bc hashirama  
> mikoto and obito are siblings bc madara  
> mikoto and kushina are not related, and neither are obito and karin. ik that it may be a bit confusing. karin has a different dad so there is nothing ~bad~ going on


	13. Mind Playing Tricks On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> against my own advice i went right back to not answering comments gahh so sorry. so much stress started happening and i didn’t have half a mind to write until recently. so, here’s this! the grand king itachi, back again with a lot of paranoid thoughts.
> 
> mind playing tricks on me - geto boys

**_ Itachi _ **

He made sure to keep himself alert for as long as possible the next night, despite the rain. If there was anything going on between Sasuke and Naruto, Itachi would put a stop to it.

Well, he _tried_ to stay awake. But he was exhausted, and the rain hadn’t helped. All the day long since he had warned Sasuke and Naruto to watch themselves, he had been studying. His meetings with Shikamaru had to be a lot more covert this week, but he couldn’t put a stop to them, even if Sasuke was visiting. There had been new sightings of someone with a similar description to the person that Shikamaru suggested was the _Obito_ who had written Mikoto that letter. The same one who had found Madara’s fan. It was all connected, but it still made no sense. The missing piece was the identity of the man with the dark hair and deep red eyes. Who was this Obito, to be stealing his grandmother’s gunbai? 

From what Itachi had been told, Obito was on the move. He had been traveling to smaller towns with different people every time. Someone with the deepest of red hair; a blonde man with manic eyes; a blonde _woman_ who kept her face covered at all times; and someone with grey hair and a scythe. Itachi didn’t know who, out of any of them, might be practicing the spirit magic, and he was convinced that he would need to know more about the subject.

At the very least, the letters that Itachi had sent to the vassals were beginning to get replies. Kiba and Kakashi both agreed to make their way to the Uchiha capital soon. Lady Hinata was busy, but she was willing to learn right now and help later. Itachi laid out the letters neatly on Shikamaru’s desk and frowned. 

“Only three,” Shikamaru said pensively, echoing Itachi’s thoughts. It wasn’t enough, surely, but it was a start. They could only move so fast in preparing for something that they weren’t very sure about. Many times, Itachi had wrestled with himself mentally. What if this is nothing, a joke? What if it is a plot to expose cracks in the relationships of the realm? If Itachi had taken Shikamaru’s rash advice and publicly accused the Senju for being behind the letter, they may have already been at war. But, then, it wouldn’t be a joke. Whether or not there were problems with relations between East and West would most certainly benefit a usurper.

And were there problems? Naruto was an affable man; Itachi didn’t usually have many negative thoughts about their interactions. But now, Itachi watched Naruto carefully. Originally, it was under the guise of making sure that he was not too friendly with Sasuke before they were wed. Itachi _was_ worried about that, but it was almost a nonissue when compared to the true matter at hand: trying to discern whether or not Naruto knew what was going on. Itachi wished that he could ask Naruto what he may have heard, but he also didn’t want to be the first person Naruto was hearing anything from. He knew that Naruto knew something, the barest of facts about the situation, from what Sasuke had told him. Still, Itachi was positive that the Yamanaka would be diligent in their surveillance as they always had, and Naruto would have at least _some_ good intel, more than he was probably giving Naruto credit for. But how much? That was the question.

Itachi shook his head to himself and rolled over on his grand bed. He slept alone, but he liked it that way. He had watched his parents live without love, and it did not appeal to him. He remembered his grandmother, too, bitter at Hashirama until his dying breath. So far as Itachi could tell, love was useless when it came to ruling. He loved only Mikoto. And Sasuke.

Sasuke. Itachi ran a stressed hand through his hair as he thought about his sister again. His mind was circling. What else did Sasuke know, besides what she’d said? What else would Naruto tell her? Unlike Itachi, Sasuke was good at keeping secrets. And she was smarter than Naruto. Whatever had been told to her, her mind was likely working even faster than Itachi’s about what it could all mean. Naruto was lucky to have someone so intelligent and in touch as Sasuke, Itachi thought bitterly. He had only his mother. And though he loved her, he knew that she was conniving. She did things with him in her heart, telling him that she did what she did for the good of the family, but she was still selfish. Sending that letter pretending to be him came to Itachi’s mind as he sighed. She had lived longer than him, so he had no clue as to what other sneaky things she might have done, but he knew that the people did not fear her for nothing. He had given up trying to reign her in. Better to have her scheming on his behalf than just her own.

Itachi closed his eyes and promised himself more studying tomorrow. He had only barely scratched the surface of reading about magic wars, and he had plenty left to learn. He had decided to immerse himself in it, so that he may figure out an angle to approach, should the situation arise. He was on his way to sleep when a loud crash from the next room caused his eyes to shoot open. He bolted upright, looking in the direction of his mother’s room.

“Mother,” Itachi mumbled. He threw back the covers and leapt from his bed.

In the hallway, Itachi put his ear to Mikoto’s bedroom door. He heard voices, and then what he thought might have been Mikoto whining. He tried to open the door, pushing hard on the handle, but it was useless. After a while, Itachi paced back and forth in front of Mikoto’s door. Should he call guards, should he wake someone else? There was magic sealing this door, and Itachi had never felt the likes of it before. He ran his fingers over the carved wood before slamming his fist against it. 

“Mother, Mother! Let me in!” Itachi yelled, panicking. He was still beating on the door when he felt Sasuke’s hands reaching out to close around his arm. She pulled him away from the door, and he didn’t fight her because he was still in shock. He hadn’t noticed her coming. Naruto wasn’t with her, for once. That was a relief, this wasn’t Naruto’s business.

“You’re going to wake this entire country,” Sasuke grumbled. Her hair was wild and she looked generally disheveled. Itachi might have found her appearance amusing under any other circumstances.

“She won’t open it,” Itachi said, gesturing to the door helplessly. “I heard her talking to someone, and she sounds upset.” He didn’t try to keep the frenzy from his voice. Even then, he could faintly hear the voices coming from the other side of the door.

“Let me see,” Sasuke said, signaling for Itachi to step back. She mimicked his earlier movements of running her fingers over the door for a moment. “It’s magic,” Sasuke said decisively after a pause. “Strong, powerful. Sinister.” She turned to face Itachi. Her face was grave. “There’s someone in there.”

Itachi threw his hands in the air. “Yes, thank you,” he said, annoyed. “She doesn’t want them in there. That’s why I was trying to open it! Do you know how to open it or not?” He crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

Sasuke turned to the door again. “Um… no? It’s not normal. It’s a _seal_ , it isn’t just a block.” Sasuke knelt down close to the jamb of the door and zapped some fire at one of the hinges from her index finger. Nothing happened. Itachi could still hear talking coming from Mikoto’s room, though he couldn’t discern what was being said.

“It’s a seal, you say?” Itachi asked when Sasuke stood up straight again. He raised an eyebrow. 

Sasuke nodded. “It’s not just something in front of it, keeping us out. It’s _in_ the door, and—”

The sound of someone tripping and letting out a pained grunt drew both Itachi’s and Sasuke’s attention away from their dilemma. “Gods, is the floor wet?” Naruto was struggling to stand. He was met with Sasuke and Itachi each with their arms crossed and glaring at him. 

Sasuke broke her position first and went to him. “I told you not to come out here, that I would not be long.” Her voice held some venom that Itachi hadn’t ever heard before. Still, she stood so very close to Naruto that Itachi was sure that she was only putting on a show for his sake. He looked away for a moment when Naruto pushed some of Sasuke’s hair from her face behind her ear.

“You always say that,” Naruto said, ignoring Itachi completely, “and then you’re gone long.”

Itachi cleared his throat then. He had no time for this. “Your Grace,” Itachi ground out, “this is a private matter. You would do well to return to your sleep and allow us to solve this.”

Naruto looked away from Sasuke’s face when Itachi spoke. “Private, hm? Then why did it seem that you were bent on alerting the entire country?” Naruto moved away from Sasuke and came closer to the door. Itachi ran a hand over his face and huffed an exasperated breath.

“I’m sure that there’s nothing you can do to help,” Itachi said. He watched as Naruto ignored him and ran his hands over the door. He glanced at Sasuke, who was watching with fretful eyes. Itachi shook his head minutely and approached the door. By now, he could barely hear the voices, and that only made his blood get more hot. What was going on behind this wood? Was Mikoto still there, was she still ok? Itachi’s hand balled into a fist again. He closed his eyes and laid his head against the door. He felt the fire rising in him with his panic.

“Calm down,” Naruto muttered next to Itachi. Itachi opened his eyes and lifted his head to see Naruto eyeing the door carefully. 

“Calm down?” Itachi repeated, “Calm down? How could I be calm when my mother is behind this door with a stranger? Someone who may want to kill her, kill everyone in here?” Itachi stood back from the door. “Calm down,” he mumbled angrily. “And I suppose that you’ve figured out how to open it? Why would you even bother?”

Naruto was silent even as Itachi continued to speak his frustrations. He put both of his hands on the handles of Mikoto’s bedroom door and closed his eyes. He seemed to be in deep concentration. Itachi started pacing again, this time with more vigor. Foolish Senju. Only Naruto would think it was his place to come out here, tell him to _calm down_ , and then pretend to know what he was doing.

“Naruto,” Sasuke said in a warning tone, “now is not the time for jest and theatre.” She approached Naruto and put a hand on his shoulder, but he ignored her. “Will you at least tell us what you’re trying to do?” Sasuke huffed. She was beginning to sound as annoyed as Itachi felt. 

“Hold _on_ , I’m trying something,” Naruto murmured. He never opened his eyes or turned to them. Itachi watched Naruto as he mouthed words. He was growing more impatient by the second. Who was Naruto to talk with such authority? He was a king, sure, but Mikoto was Itachi’s mother and Itachi’s problem.

Sasuke came to Itachi and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I told him not to come out here,” she said. 

“You mentioned that,” Itachi replied.

“Who do you think is in there? Anyone? Or… oh, blast it all.” Sasuke backed off of her toes and made a frustrated sound. Itachi could see that Sasuke was really worried about their mother, and despite himself, it made Itachi happy. He didn’t want their relationship to fall into shambles just because they were so different, or because there was distance between them. Sasuke didn’t ever write to Mikoto, only Itachi. In the back of his mind, he hoped that would change soon.

“What does he think he’s doing?” Itachi whispered to Sasuke, and they both turned their heads to see Naruto holding his hands in front of him in the form of a seal that Itachi didn’t recognize, even after all of his years of magic training. Sasuke’s eyebrow quirked and she shrugged.

“He’s never mentioned anything like this before,” Sasuke said. Itachi grimaced as Naruto continued mumbling words. 

His jaw flew open when the door clicked. 

Naruto’s shoulders slumped and he let out a ragged breath. He wheezed a low curse just as his knees buckled. Sasuke rushed to catch him before his head hit the stone floor. Itachi stepped over them and kicked open Mikoto’s door. He didn’t have the time in this moment to ask Naruto what he’d just done or how he’d known how to do it, he needed to get to Mother.

Mikoto was sitting on the floor with her back against the black wood of the foot of her bed. Her knees were drawn up to her chest. Itachi could see a long red stain trailing down the front of Mikoto’s white night clothes. His eyes flicked to where he knew her wine cart sat, and they grew wide when he saw that it was in disarray. The wine was spilled on the floor and the goblets were strewn all across the carpets. There was glass on the floor, too, from a broken window. Itachi felt the chill of the rain-air coming through the hole in the glass. All of the lights were low, so that he could barely see Mikoto where she sat. When she heard his footsteps coming closer, her eyes turned up fast to see his face. She looked crazed, deranged. Her hair looked as though she had been tousling it, and her skin was so pale that she seemed faint, or like a ghost. Her eyes were red and Itachi could tell that she had been crying.

Itachi knelt down beside Mikoto and frowned when she turned her face from him. “Mother,” he said quietly, so as not to startle her. “What happened?”

Mikoto squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head frantically. “No, no, no,” she kept repeating, over and over. Itachi reached out to put a hand on Mikoto’s knee, but she hissed and drew herself away from him. Her face didn’t soften when Sasuke came into the room. Sasuke sat on her knees on the floor next to Mikoto, on her other side. Itachi was glad that at least, Naruto knew his place in _this_ situation and didn’t come any closer (despite the fact that Naruto had indeed opened the door).

“Mother? What’s happened in here?” Sasuke’s voice was delicate as she reached out to stroke Mikoto’s hair. With nowhere to escape to, Mikoto allowed Sasuke’s fingers to run into her tresses. She was shaking, Itachi saw. He held her hand and squeezed it once, to let her know that he was there, too.

“Nothing,” Mikoto said slowly. “Nothing at all.” She was looking through Sasuke. Itachi felt his heart weakening. He had never, _ever_ seen Mikoto reduced to anything close to this. Who was this person before him? It could not be Mother. She was stronger than this, he’d always thought.

Itachi didn’t like that Mikoto wasn’t answering the question. “Mother, please tell us what happened,” he said steadily. Mikoto blinked once and looked up at him. This time, he could tell that she was looking _at_ his eyes instead of through them.

“Nothing happened, son,” Mikoto repeated, this time with more certainty. She took her hand from his and ran her fingers over the long red stain on the front of her clothes. “Would you look at that?” she mumbled to herself. Itachi caught Sasuke’s eyes while Mikoto’s head was bent and they held the same expression that he was feeling. This was _strange_.

“Will you at least tell us why you wouldn’t open the door? We heard someone else in here,” Sasuke tried, her voice full of hope.

It was in vain. Mikoto shrugged and struggled to stand. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said easily. “The door was open, you just weren’t trying hard enough. Is that His Grace?” Mikoto was squinting in Naruto’s direction.

Itachi heard Naruto clear his throat. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said politely. “I, um. Opened the door,” he said, gesturing to the way that Mikoto’s door was still thrown open. 

“Did you? Seems you solved a problem on your own that both of my children could not solve together.” Mikoto took careful steps toward the door and turned to Itachi and Sasuke when she reached it.

“Mother,” Itachi said, “please do not make us leave. We want to make certain that you are of your wits.”

“I am of my wits, Itachi,” Mikoto said sharply. There it was. That was the Mother that Itachi was used to, but it was still strange. Forced. He hung his head for a moment before straightening up and sighing. 

“Fine,” Itachi conceded after a long and tense silence. He did not look behind him as he left the room. He knew that he should not be so frustrated with Mikoto; she had clearly had something happen to her. But despite what she said, she was _not_ of her wits. Something was off now. Itachi frowned to himself as he climbed back into his bed. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until he got beneath his covers. His last thought was of Naruto, and how he would need to ask exactly what he’d done to get the door to open.

Early the next day, Itachi went down to Shikamaru’s quarters to study. He needed to take his mind off of what had happened the night before, as well as gather as much information as possible. Shikamaru left him alone when he got like this, even if there were pressing matters that may need to be discussed. Itachi wouldn’t listen anyway, if he was studying, and he had plenty to learn right now.

Itachi scribbled some more notes on what had started as an empty page as he read. Though spirit magic was old, there wasn’t very much viable information. There were accounts of peasants spanning centuries, but people conjured things in their mind all the time. Itachi took it all with a small amount of doubt, even the information provided from scholars. He didn’t even fully believe spirit users who had detailed information, because the magic put them out of their wits. How could even _they_ really know what was happening, when the voices of the dead whispered to them non-stop?

There were a few stories that seemed logical enough to believe, and a few common patterns. No one knew where the spirit magic originated, but Itachi learned that it was inherited. He read about the ways that the children grew up; isolated from the rest, or else shunned because of the fantastical things they would say and do. The madness set in early, and most spirit-users didn’t make it past their thirty fifth year. A lot perished soon before that, but the magic still persisted. 

Spirit-users were cruel and held a lust for violence, spurred by the voices in their heads. They always chose blood over diplomacy. If there was war to be mongered, it could be assumed that they would try their hardest to instigate. Spirit-users were rarely ever trusted enough to be in high ranking positions, for fear that their magic would drive them to target a monarch in a fit of madness. Fits of madness included rampant killing sprees and spending days at a time conversing with the dead out in the open, rather than solely during special rituals. Though they weren’t trusted very often, spirit-users were attracted to royalty and lords due to their inherent power. The more powerful a magic user the leader was, the more likely it was that there would be several spirit-people following behind them. They had the power to make this seem the leader’s idea, when in fact it was not. The last recorded use of spirit magic had been across the seas in a shadow realm. That was before the time of Madara and Izuna, before the time of Tajima.

By the time Itachi heard the door creak, the once-empty page was full of notes both front and back. He had read a lot, but he still felt that he was missing something important, something that would help him unlock the secret of this usurper and why he was claiming to be of royal blood. He welcomed this break from his deep immersion, because his mind was still whirling with other things. Itachi still had not gotten up the courage to ask Mikoto what had happened in private, and now he didn’t know if he could. She was still upset, and though she pretended to be normal, Itachi saw the torment behind her eyes when she looked away from him.

“Brother,” Sasuke mumbled. She winced when Itachi looked up with a glare. He had been expecting Shikamaru.

“What, Sasuke? I am busy. You see this.” Itachi wasn’t sure how Sasuke had even figured that he was down here. He had been attempting to slip away whenever Naruto was taking his day sleep, because he had somehow convinced Sasuke to do it with him. With both of them unconscious he had no worry about being found studying about spirit magic. But there stood Sasuke, her hands twisting about in front of herself and her eyes down at her feet.

“I was just wondering what you are reading,” Sasuke said. She turned hopeful eyes up to Itachi, and he sighed angrily before shifting so that she might sit next to him at the desk where he was working. Sasuke slid onto the bench next to Itachi and looked over his shoulder at the book. “Spirit wars? Wasn’t that centuries ago?”

Itachi nodded without looking up. He thought that maybe if he didn’t answer her or give her too much attention, Sasuke would become bored and leave. 

But he should have known better. Sasuke was a pest, and she always had been. “So what’re you reading it for? It can’t be for fun. That’s a big book.” Sasuke glanced at the paper that Itachi had been writing on. “And you have so much here! I never thought I’d see something you knew so _little_ about.”

Itachi sighed heavily and turned to Sasuke slightly. “I am studying,” he said. “It has been reported that there is a spirit-user, after all of this time.”

Sasuke nodded. “I remember. Naruto told me.” She looked to Itachi’s notes again. “What have you found?”

“Plenty,” Itachi said, offering Sasuke the paper. He scratched his chin while she read carefully. “I feel like I’m missing something,” he admitted. He watched Sasuke look over the words he’d written and frowned when she quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s this part? _Spirit-users follow power_.” Sasuke looked up. “What’s that mean?”

Itachi flipped through the book to find what he had been reading when he wrote that. “They will seek to follow whomever has the most prowess in their specific magic. This may not be any current monarch or vassal…” Itachi scratched his head. 

“So the spirits have decided that this man is more powerful than you, or I, Mother and Naruto.” Sasuke said this with certainty. When Itachi thought about it, he supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t customary anymore for leaders to be so strong when they had larger armies than ever before, ever since the war before last. Or was it the one before that? Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose. Too much fighting to keep up with it all.

“I guess,” Itachi replied. Though his words were nonchalant, he felt a slight prickle of panic. Was this Obito really stronger than anyone else in the realm? And what did that mean for himself and his family? Itachi shuddered to think what may happen if Obito truly decided to wage a war.

“Can I give this to Naruto?” Sasuke asked.

Itachi took the paper back and shook his head. “No,” he said simply. Naruto didn’t need this. Naruto could do his own research if he wanted to know anything. “It’s not my job to give him intel. He has his own people for that. He could read on his own for research.”

Sasuke’s eyes trailed around the room for a moment. “He’s… not home right now. These aren’t his books.”

Itachi shrugged and flipped back to the page he’d been on. “He can read them if he inquires. We are not picky.” Sasuke was still fidgeting, but Itachi didn’t have time for this. “Is he awake? I need to ask him something.” He didn’t look up from the book as he spoke. 

“He sleeps,” Sasuke said. “He was overheating me, I had to get away.”

“And you came to watch me study?” Itachi asked.

“… No,” Sasuke said eventually, after the silence had stretched. 

“What is it, then? I do not have all day, and neither do you. No doubt he will be trying to adhere himself to you once he is awake.”

Sasuke sighed. She seemed to be steeling herself. When she was still silent, Itachi finally closed his book and gave her his undivided attention. “What do you think happened with mother?” Sasuke asked quietly. She was afraid, Itachi could tell.

“I don’t know,” Itachi admitted. “I haven’t ever seen her like that. And she feigned feeling alright today, but I could see it in her eyes. Whatever happened yesterday has taken a toll on her.”

“I just don’t understand it,” Sasuke grumbled. “Who was in there? Was she talking to herself? Might Mother practice spirit magic? It’s so confusing. I never thought I’d fear for her like this.”

“Mother does not practice spirit magic,” Itachi said firstly. “Don’t fool yourself. Mother knows base level fire spells, that is all. You and I learned more magic than her.”

“But isn’t that strange?” Sasuke pointed out. “We as a family have always had at least one in a generation to have incredible skill. It was Madara before, but it is clearly not Mother. So who, then? Might this man’s claims be true? Do you… think that he may be our uncle?”

Itachi grit his teeth. He had been having the doubts as well, but he didn’t want to allow the thoughts to truly cross his mind. And now that Sasuke had breathed it into the universe, it was making too much sense. But Mother had said no. She had said that she had no brothers. He didn’t want to think that she’d lie about something so important, so monumental. “I don’t know, Sasuke,” Itachi said again. “I don’t know the truth yet. I will have to keep reading and searching. And in the meantime, _you_ can leave me to it.” Itachi shooed Sasuke off of his bench as he said it.

Sasuke stood with a huff and crossed her arms. “What is it that you have to ask Naruto? I will inform him that you have questions.”

“That is all, Sasuke,” Itachi said as dismissively as possible. Sasuke made an annoyed sound before shuffling out of the room. Itachi rolled his eyes up to the dark ceiling when Sasuke left. He couldn’t care about her petulance. He had more important things to worry about.

Another knock on the door caused Itachi to slam his book where he’d just opened it to the correct page again. “What is it now?” 

Shikamaru quirked an eyebrow. “Your Grace? I saw your sister leaving so I thought you were taking visitors again. Is this a bad time?” He held a rolled up paper in his fist. 

Itachi sat back and shook his head. “No, no. My apologies, please approach.” He shifted his study materials to the side to make space for whatever Shikamaru was bringing with him. Itachi couldn’t discern if it was serious or not, because Shikamaru’s face always held the same expression.

Shikamaru unfolded the paper in front of Itachi and then stood back. “From the Hyuga,” he supplied.

_Your Highness,_

_It would seem that the mysterious group of outlaws has gained another member recently, as previously reported. We have learned the identity of this latest usurper aid. Tsunade of distant relation to the Senju seems to have joined the cause of the man claiming to be Obito. We hope to have further, more substantial developments later._

_Best regards,_

_Hinata_

Itachi crumpled the page and cast it to the ground. “Tsunade? What would she gain from joining him?” Itachi now knew that she was the blonde woman that Obito had been seen with. She was well known for her healing magic and ability to mend near-dead life.

“I do not know yet. As you can see, the report is brief. I have drafted a thanks to Hinata, but I would like you to add something to it, as always.” Shikamaru meant for Itachi to follow him to his office. 

“One moment,” Itachi said. Shikamaru took this as a dismissal and bowed stiffly before exiting the room.

There was simply too much going on, too much that he didn’t know about. Itachi sighed to himself and shook his head. His mind drifted to Mother again, and how she had been adamant that she had no brothers. He also thought about how determined she’d been to not be a part of all of this. Was it connected, the craziness of the night before and the claims of this person? 

Obito.

Itachi wished there were any sort of records, any way to know once and for all whether or not this was true. It was infuriating, really. Itachi slid his notes into the book he’d been reading so as not to lose his page and stood to join Shikamaru in his office. Whatever this was, Itachi thought, one thing was for certain. 

Mikoto knew the truth. But how was Itachi supposed to get it out of her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aha what did obito say in the room, hm?? and what is tsunade doing with this young man!? who knows not me
> 
> fuuinjutsu!naruto ahaha!! bc he couldn’t be good at *nothing*


	14. WHO? WHAT!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i know. all this time away and i didn’t fill any requirements?! ridiculous, i say this even to myself. however, i hope that everyone’s favorite princess making another appearance is enough to overlook that...
> 
> she’s a little jumbled, but i hope that you all enjoy!
> 
> who? what! - travis scott

**_Sasuke_ **

“Seems that if I want something done right, I’ll have to do it myself,” Sasuke grumbled. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that no one was following her before ascending the stairs to return to her chambers, where she was hopeful Naruto was still waiting for her.

Sasuke’s lip drew between her teeth as she traipsed up, up, up. To Naruto. Her fiancé. The man that she was supposed to marry, to devote her existence to. Bear him children, love him unconditionally, keep his secrets. Sasuke rolled her eyes as she passed misted windows. She was _hers_ , not his. No matter how he made her knees weak. No matter how he made her heart beat erratically, crazily, without rhythm. No matter how his sweet words curled around her soul and tickled the part of her that she wished did not exist.

To be fair, Naruto was not pushy. He was the opposite of pushy; Sasuke sometimes felt bad for walking on top of him. He never told her no. The first time that he had ever shown some sort of disagreement or dissent was when she had stormed out of the room on the day that it rained. She had never seen that look in his eye, nor had his eyes ever been that color. She felt a shiver run through her as she remembered the way that he had grabbed her. There was no force in it, not really. Just a slight edge that Sasuke was not accustomed to. She was not afraid of Naruto after that. Rather, she was plagued with a deep internal heat that didn’t dissipate until she had finally extricated herself from him.

Still. Everyone on the outside was waiting for something that she wasn’t sure would ever happen, and everyone around her on all sides were trying to pull them apart before they were even married. She was seeing Naruto in a new light, yes. She saw him as a man and not a boy, despite herself. She saw him as someone who had things going on in his mind that she would maybe never know, but that she found herself praying that he would tell her. She wanted to be inside his mind. In her quiet moments, Sasuke decided that she and Naruto were friends. They laughed together, shared good moments. He was learning the things that made her smile, and she was remembering things about him that he mentioned offhandedly and didn’t even remember saying to her. They were friends. Friends only. She was not sure if she would ever see Naruto as anything other than a clumsy, sleepy fool. Why couldn’t they just stay that way? Friends. He was a Senju, and if there was one thing that she would not forget, was that the Senju were poisonous to her and her line. And to him, she was an Uchiha. He had been hearing the same things about her his entire life; she was sure that he saw her only an imp who would not give up her weapons or allow him inside her walls if her life depended on one of those things or both.

And he was right.

Just as she had suspected and hoped, Naruto was still entombed in her duvet when she returned. However, his eyes were wide open and he was glaring at her pointedly. Sasuke cursed to herself. She was really hoping that he would still be asleep, and that she could tell him that her brief absence had been a bad dream or something, and they could finish sleeping.

“Where do you run off to, when you know that I cannot sleep without you?” Naruto asked sorrowfully, sitting up and crossing his arms. Sasuke felt her throat get a little dry. She approached the side of the bed and realized that Naruto had sprawled into the middle since she’d slipped away. She smiled against her own will at the mussed state of Naruto’s flaxen hair.

“I was just visiting my brother,” Sasuke said. It wasn’t a lie. And it wasn’t that Naruto couldn’t have come… it was simply better if Naruto did not accompany her at a time like this when Itachi wanted nothing to do with anyone. Itachi probably wouldn’t have been so candid if Naruto had gone with her, and Sasuke had needed answers. She needed any semblance of closure from the way that Mikoto had acted the previous night. Admittedly, she didn’t get anything from him that she had not already concluded for herself about Mother. 

But she’d come away from the conversation with _something_.

“What is that?” Naruto leaned forward and crowded into Sasuke’s space impossibly after she climbed onto the bed, since she’d had no space to begin with. He reached politely for the folded paper she was drawing from the sleeve of her gown, and Sasuke handed it to him gently. She had slight remorse for stealing Itachi’s notes, but really, Naruto needed to know this. That is the thought she broadcast to the front of her mind as Naruto’s eyes traveled over Itachi’s scratchings.

“Mm…” Naruto squinted before giving a defeated huff and handing the paper back to Sasuke. “I can’t make out a single letter,” he said. He hung his head then. Sasuke ran her fingers over Naruto’s chin and forced his eyes to her.

“Do not be ashamed of things that you cannot control,” Sasuke said, gently but with a firm edge. “I will read it.” She did her best to give a summary of what Itachi had written. It was hard for her to make too much sense of the information that he hadn’t already explained to her, but that was really all that Naruto needed to know, anyway.

“So… this man, this usurper.” Naruto seemed to be having a hard time figuring out exactly what he wanted to say. Sasuke was patient and did not rush him, and instead worked hard to keep her urge to slide underneath his arm in check. Finally, Naruto cleared his throat and tried again.

“He’s powerful. More so than you or I, your brother. And what does this power entail? Fire magic, I suppose.” Naruto ran a hand over his face at that detail. “I remember the accounts by the witness. A blast so powerful it turned a rock to ash and dust. Fire more powerful than yours and Itachi’s, and more powerful than my wind.”

Sasuke averted her eyes when Naruto mentioned his magic nature. She had always been taught, by Mikoto and Madara and her tutors, that wind was the least of all magics. Some scholars chalked wind phenomena to coincidence or hearsay rather than inheritance, like all of the other magics. She tried very hard not to judge Naruto for this, because he couldn’t help it. It was nearly impossible to learn a magic other than the one that flowed in your veins, let alone at Naruto’s age. For someone who had such a hard time learning as Naruto, it was certainly too late. Sasuke pressed her lips together as she negated that thought with her own memory. She had seen Naruto using some other sort of magic, the name of which she wasn’t sure and the likes of which she had never witnessed before. She would have to ask him about it soon, when they weren’t talking about this _again_.

“Do you think that he will seek you?” Sasuke asked fretfully. She found herself smoothing some of the wrinkles on Naruto’s sleep clothes. Her fingers stilled when she realized what she was doing. Naruto grasped them and held her hand in his lap.

Naruto paused for a moment before he replied. “I have come to the conclusion that he probably will. I am the king, yes? The king of the East.” Naruto worried his lip between his teeth for a moment before releasing Sasuke’s hand and leaving her on the bed. She watched with furrowed eyebrows as he took a few steps toward the window. He leaned against the glass, and Sasuke saw his eyes trailing the capital, the shiny black stone of the walls and roofs, the slick cobbles of the main streets and the dirt roads that were coming to mud. Her home, the place she had lived her whole life. She would have to give it all up to live with him in the summery East. 

Sasuke decided not to follow Naruto to the window. She did not know what he was thinking, but she had the feeling that it was something that he had not yet voiced to her. Being patient was growing difficult the longer that Naruto stood silently.

Suddenly, Naruto turned to face Sasuke again. “My repose is finished,” Naruto said, with a feigned seriousness that made Sasuke frown. It wasn’t something he would usually say, and that wasn’t his voice. But he kept talking, going farther to say, “I have something to discuss with my mother.” Sasuke’s eyes followed Naruto as he moved around the room. He was getting dressed to leave. 

“But, wait! You usually sleep twice as long… are you sure that you will sleep through the night? You won’t be, um.” Sasuke grasped her sleeve tightly to keep from reaching for him and instead focused on what she was trying to say. “Cranky?”

Naruto snorted. “I will be fine. If I must, I will have a tonic to keep me awake.” He shrugged a small coat over his broad shoulders and Sasuke grit her teeth as he approached the door. “Don’t miss me too much, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I won’t miss you,” Sasuke lied. “I have plenty of other things to do besides think about _you_ and what you may be doing and discussing with that witch.” 

Sasuke caught the way that Naruto’s eyes rolled as he turned away from her for a last time. “Do not speak about my mother that way, princess. I thought that we have been over this.” Naruto straightened his coat with his back to Sasuke, and then he opened the door cautiously. He didn’t like the way that it creaked, Sasuke knew. She didn’t watch as he left. Instead, she crossed the room to her desk and copied Itachi’s notes onto her own paper with the intention of having her own and slipping Itachi’s back to him before he noticed it was gone.

Hand curling in a fist on her lap, Sasuke was struggling to pay attention to what she was doing. _Princess._ Her mind was on Naruto, but not really. She was consumed with what it all meant. Someone more powerful than herself and her entire family, as well as Naruto’s. More powerful than all vassals, more powerful than any general or military expert. So much power that they had a spirit-user following them. And who else? Sasuke wished deeply that Itachi would have told her more. Now that she was engaged to be wed to Naruto, was she no longer his sister? Sasuke grumbled in frustration. Of course she was. But she was going to be _Senju_ Sasuke soon, and Itachi was just conditioning himself to not tell her everything, as he had been their entire lives.

Sasuke looked over the paper she’d taken from Itachi and noticed a small scratching in a corner that he’d had his hand over while they had been talking. She squinted and brought the paper closer to her eyes. 

_Uncle? Obito…_

“Uncle,” Sasuke repeated, tasting the word. She had never had reason to say it before. She remembered that the person was claiming to be Mother’s brother. She shook her head slowly before sliding the paper back into her sleeve.

She didn’t look for Naruto as she left her chambers once again. This time, she made sure to check her appearance, because she had other things to do. She needed to find her own mother, and find her way back to the Nara’s dank chambers to replace Itachi’s notes. Sasuke brushed her hair out the best that she could and made a mental note to herself to ask one of her chambermaids to do it better for her bath tonight.

Sasuke drew her coat tight over her shoulders as she made her way back down the tower. She felt the burn in her thighs and knees by the time she snuck to the ground floor. It was around lunch time, and she knew that Itachi and Mother would be in the Hall. Pushing the door slowly, Sasuke winced at the creak. All she had to do was get to Itachi’s study again and put the paper back into the book, where she had found it.

Someone behind Sasuke cleared their throat just as she was about to open the door to Itachi’s study, and she covered her mouth to stifle her gasp.

“Princess? What is your business down here?” Shikamaru’s face was twisted with confusion. Sasuke felt her lip trembling for a moment before she steeled herself and drew in a steadying breath. This man was not his father, and Sasuke had no real reason to fear him. He was quiet and brooding, and he had a bad habit of sneaking up on people without announcing himself, but he wasn’t scary.

“I was meaning to take some books back from the king that he had borrowed before I made my first trip to the East.” 

“The king is supping with your mother and the Senju,” Shikamaru said. His voice was dull, as though it were annoying to have to remind Sasuke of something that she surely already knew.

“Ah, yes.” Sasuke felt the paper digging into her wrist, and she resisted the urge to scratch at it. “I did know that. Do you think that he would part with any book by purpose? If I want something from him, I will have to take it.” Sasuke attempted a small smile. The irony. “I will be quick, do not mind me.”

Shikamaru raised a lazy eyebrow and scratched his side. “What books did you give to the king that he did not already have down here? And why would they be down here, rather than in the library?” 

Sasuke’s face was warming, but she pinched herself and made her smile come back. “Oh, you know my brother. He has always been a secretive man. Secretive, sneaky. Just the way our father was.” Sasuke kept her voice even and level.

“Of course,” Shikamaru said. Sasuke knew better than to think that Shikamaru fully believed her, but he was letting her pass. “Do not be long, or loud. You know that I require silence to work.” Shikamaru gave Sasuke a look from her head to her toes before turning away, in the direction of his own office. Sasuke didn’t breathe until she heard the heavy wood of his door close.

Sasuke’s hands were shaking when she entered Itachi’s study. It was easy enough to slip the paper back in the place it had been. Or, close enough. Sasuke put it up to chance that Itachi would not say anything, even if he did notice it.

When she slid into her seat next to Itachi, she felt him stiffen. “Where have you been? You’re late by half an hour.” Itachi’s whisper was harsh.

Sasuke shrugged. “I was with Naruto, and then I sent him away,” she answered easily. She took the drink she was offered and finished it before the server had made it five steps away from her. “What wine is this?” Sasuke smacked her lips. “It is weak.”

Itachi scoffed and scraped his fork across his platter pointedly. He ignored her gripe about the wine and instead asked, “Is that so?” 

Sasuke nodded without looking at Itachi and gave a small yelp of surprise when he turned to her and held her hand up to his eyes. She wrenched herself away just as he was muttering something to himself. “You sent him away,” Itachi repeated. “I find that hard to believe, given the way that he loudly proclaimed to his mother that he knew that you would miss him in his absence.”

Sasuke curled her lip. She deigned to justify this statement with a response and instead took Itachi’s cup of wine. She sniffed it and wrinkled her nose. “Where is this from? This is not the wine that I love, that I have craved for months.”

Itachi rolled his eyes as Sasuke replaced his goblet in front of him, half empty. “It is from your new home,” Itachi said petulantly.

Sasuke pursed her lips. “Ah. I knew that it was familiar.”

“Enough idle prattle,” Itachi said. “Have you finished eating? I have something to discuss with you.” 

“Too bad for you, brother,” Sasuke said, laying her utensils over her plate. “I have something to discuss with Mother.”

“Do not even worry,” Itachi retorted, “she will be there too.”

“Well, I already told you both. Nothing happened.” Mikoto sat with her hands folded and her head tilted, just the way that Madara had posed in the photo Sasuke knew hung above Mikoto’s mantle. 

“That can’t be true, Mother.” Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose. “We know that there was someone in there, that they broke in and harassed you. What did they say, who was it?” Itachi was growing exasperated fast. “We want to help you, we want to keep things like that from happening again.”

Sasuke looked between her mother and her king. He had asked her not to talk out of turn before their mother had entered the room, but even Naruto would have known that this was going nowhere. They had already tried this with her, and she was still as staunch as ever. Silently, she looked between her children with contempt.

“Fine,” Itachi said, sitting back in his big chair and crossing his arms. “Tell us what happened.”

Mikoto shrugged and twirled some of her hair between her fingers. Sasuke narrowed her eyes at Mikoto’s flippant attitude. There was still a mania behind her eyes, despite the façade she was putting up.

“I was having some wine, as I is my wont, and then the storm kicked up outside. The wind grew so strong that the glass shattered from its force, and then the lights blew out. I dropped my wine in shock.” Mikoto crossed her legs before replacing her hands neatly on her lap.

Both Sasuke and Itachi were silent for a while. They didn’t speak to each other with words; instead, they exchanged a few pointed looks. She got the idea that Itachi was having the same stream of thought as her. Only one part of this story was true.

“So why was the door locked, sealed tight?” Sasuke tried.

“I told you that, too.” Mikoto spoke to Sasuke as though she were ten years younger than she really was. “The door was not locked. It was open, children.” She looked from Sasuke to Itachi and back again. “Your Naruto opened the door with no problem.”

“He almost passed out completely,” Sasuke said angrily before she could stop herself. Itachi glanced at her for a moment before deciding not to respond to that.

“That is not my problem. And it is not yours, either.” Mikoto sneered. “You care too much for that boy. And for what?” Mikoto shook her head before turning her attention to Itachi. “Do you have any other questions? I tire of this. I have my own business to attend to.”

Itachi scratched his chin and cleared his throat harshly. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Sasuke blurted, “Mother, who is Obito?”

The room fell silent again, though this time, all attention was on Sasuke. Itachi’s eyes were wide with bewilderment, and Mikoto’s face was twisted into one of disgust. She looked down at her fingers for a while, not saying anything but growing more visibly upset by the minute. Her shoulders began to shake. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together as though to stifle a scream. Eventually, she turned her eyes to Sasuke again.

“Obito does not exist,” Mikoto said. She stood and came closer to Sasuke, until Sasuke could feel Mikoto’s breaths fanning out over her forehead. “There is no Obito.”

“Was there ever Obito? Did he ever exist before?” Sasuke felt her heart beating in her throat as she tried not to wither underneath Mikoto’s gaze. She forced herself to continue. “You… can be honest with us. We are your children, the future of the realm.” She hated how small her voice was. With Mikoto in her face like this, she felt the same size as a mouse. Still, she pressed on. “We need to know who may be coming for us.”

“Was there ever Obito, was there ever Obito?” Mikoto mocked. Sasuke shrunk back and glared at her mother as Mikoto continued her raving. “No, there was never Obito! There is no such man as Uchiha Obito.” Mikoto crossed the room to Itachi and held both sides of his face, as though to present him to Sasuke. Though Itachi’s eyebrows furrowed, he made no moves to get free.

“He is the king. Him, _him_. Your brother. Not your father, no one else. Itachi.” Mikoto’s hands dropped to Itachi’s shoulders. Sasuke saw him huff a breath. “And there is no one, no one in this realm, who will take that from me. From him. From you.” Mikoto released Itachi roughly and wrung her hands in front of herself. “I will kill them, with my ten digits. My own hands!”

Sasuke looked toward Itachi, who was watching Mother with the same wide eyes as before. Now, though, he looked almost afraid, rather than confused. “There is Obito, Mother. We read a letter from him. With Shikamaru, don’t you remember?”

If she did remember, Mikoto made no sign of it. Her eyes were blank as she turned to Itachi. “I have no such recollection. We did not read anything from someone called Obito, because there is no Obito. There has never been an Obito. Never, never, never. Madara had me, only me. Only me!” She came closer to Sasuke again and ran her hands over the crown of her daughter’s head gently, all the way down to Sasuke’s chin. Her fingers held Sasuke’s face with a fierce grip. “She loved you so much, do you know that? Her dying breath was pleading with me not to let you fall into some Senju’s spell the way that she did.” Mikoto’s voice was saccharine. “It ruined her, it ruined the family.”

“Mother, we aren’t talking about that,” Sasuke said insistently. Her earlier anxiety was gone, and had given way to complete incertitude. “What does that have to do with anything, or with Obito?”

At the mention of Obito, Mikoto flew back into her frenzied rage. “There is no Obito! He does not exist, has not existed. Do not even _think_ about Obito, there is no—”

Mikoto made a shocked sound when Itachi grasped her shoulders. Sasuke startled; she hadn’t seen Itachi stand or approach them. “Mother, you need to go to bed. It is time to rest.” Mikoto was fighting Itachi, but he held her tighter. Sasuke saw her brother digging his nails into their mother’s arms as he dragged her from the room.

Sasuke was helpless as Itachi forced Mikoto from the room. She did not know what to do with herself as she waited for him to return. She heard the sounds of Mikoto and Itachi arguing in the next room over. She didn’t think she could help, anyway. Sasuke pinched the bridge of her nose and followed them out of Itachi’s room and into the hallway. Her mind was racing as she stepped closer. She was thinking about Mikoto’s words about Senju. Madara had loved her, Sasuke remembered that. She also remembered the way that Madara felt about the Senju as a clan and as political rivals. But what did that have to do with the discussion at hand? They had been talking about Obito. Who was Obito? What? Where? Sasuke grumbled under her breath that it all made no sense. She knew that they were missing just _one_ detail, one thing that would change the course of this whole thing. But what, what? Sasuke thought more about what Mikoto had said about Madara.

“The way that she did,” Sasuke murmured before humming to herself. She touched her fingertips to her lips just as Itachi bursted from Mikoto’s room. He slammed the door shut behind himself and sighed in slight defeat. 

“Is she alright?” Sasuke asked. Itachi shook his head angrily.

“I had to force her into the bed, but I think she will stay in bed for the rest of the night. At least… I think she will stay in her room. I hope.” Itachi sounded less than hopeful. “I told the maids to watch her through the night and make certain she does not drink anything.”

Sasuke nodded absently. “It ruined the family,” she mumbled, repeating her mother again. Ruined the family. But Madara had married Sasuke’s grandfather, had Mikoto, and lived the rest of her days as a feared ruler. They had not lost many finances, despite the war, and Sasuke knew nothing of any sort of uprisings in the time of her grandmother.

“What did you say?” Itachi asked. He was eyeing her with concern, but Sasuke was barely paying him any mind.

“Ruined her, ruined the family.” The family. Sasuke pursed her lips for a moment before releasing one deep breath.

“You don’t think—”

“I do.” Sasuke nodded, and though she felt afraid to say it, she still spoke. Her voice shook and her veins were hot as she voiced what they had both been thinking. 

“I think… that he is her brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s really important to me that sasuke stays as true to herself as possible, but obviously she _is_ falling in love w dummy king senju... so i really hope that her internal conflict doesn’t come across forced at all. she’s really struggling here ppl!
> 
> mikoto’s kiddos are too smart for her. what spurred her outburst?? what will become of obito now that sooske and king itachi nissan have him halfway figured out??!! stay tuned ;)


	15. Mad World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo all, back again with some incredibly messed up moms
> 
> mad world - michael andrews

**_Kushina_ **

She had been hoping to visit Mikoto on this night, but it did not seem likely. Kushina winced when she heard the struggle going on across the hall from her room that she was sharing with her sister on this trip.

“Did you hear that?” Karin whispered loudly into the dark. Kushina startled in her covers and grumbled lightly at the fact that Karin scared her.

Kushina scoffed. “Of course, I heard it,” she said petulantly. “It’s the Uchiha across the way.” By the volume, it sounded like all three of them.

Karin sat up. Kushina looked out across the room in the direction of her sister. “What do you think they’re doing over there?”

Kushina mimicked her sister’s earlier actions and sat up, too. “We do not need to worry about them,” she said, even as her heart beat desperately in an attempt to reach across the void of space between herself and Mikoto. Perhaps it was better that she had not visited. She had almost allowed herself to forget what had last happened between them. Still, Kushina could not stop herself from wondering what exactly was causing all of the commotion. Was Mikoto alright? What were the children doing to her? Kushina’s mind drifted to her son as well, and she shook her head. He was far too curious for someone who could barely read a room, even at his age; she wouldn’t put it past him to try to figure out what was happening. Kushina was chewing her lip as her sister spoke once more.

“Mikoto has been acting strange recently, do you think?” Karin had stood now, and was lighting the candle closest to her bed. Kushina squinted for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dull flame. Karin’s thin eyebrows were quirked.

“I suppose,” Kushina said. She did not want to discuss Mikoto with her sister. She had had enough ridicule about _that_ from Karin for a lifetime.

“What are you thinking?” Karin asked, jolting Kushina from her mind. Karin was suspicious, if her tone were to be believed. “You are ruminating.”

“It is nothing,” Kushina said quickly. There was nothing in her mind that Karin needed to hear. Instead, Kushina decided to change the subject. “What of Obito? Have you given thought to what you might say to him, should he show his face?”

It was evident in Karin’s expression that she had been expecting this question. Her features flattened in something akin to boredom and she shrugged. “I would simply ask why he left, and why he stole from our family.” Her voice sounded strained, even in a whisper.

“Is that really all? And you think that he will answer these questions in truth?” Kushina did not believe that Karin would be satisfied with any answer Obito might give. If she knew anything about her sister, she knew that Karin would not stop asking until she got closure. Kushina also knew that Karin would never get it. She wouldn’t ever get what she was looking for, and she would grow more and more desperate to feel like she had made him feel how she had, all those years ago when Karin woke up and he wasn’t at her side.

And, if Kushina knew anything about Obito, she knew that he was conniving. But, really, he was an enigma. The shape of Obito changed in Kushina’s mind every hour or so. 

Karin sniffed indignantly. “It will be enough, because he will tell the truth. Why lie? He’s already risking his life in this campaign to unseat the boy.” Karin looked toward the door then. She seemed to be contemplating something heavily. Eventually, she spoke up, but still at a low tone.

“What does Naruto plan?”

Kushina ran her hands over her lap a few times. She did not know how to tell Karin, her vengeance-seeking sister, that Naruto planned essentially nothing. It had been impossible to discern Naruto’s true intention when she had asked him about it, and she had since been experiencing too much mental tumult to ask him again. All that Kushina had gathered from that conversation was that Naruto wanted to _talk_ to Obito, which certainly would amount to nothing. Kushina pressed her lips together and winced when Karin stood again.

“Tell me, tell me what Naruto plans.” Karin crossed the room in a few long strides that served only to remind Kushina that her little sister was not so little anymore. She was a woman, not a girl, and she had her own feelings that weren’t their mother’s anymore. She held her own anger, her own resentment, her own loneliness. Kushina saw it all as she studied Karin’s features.

Which was why it was so hard for her to admit, “Naruto plans basically nothing.” She didn’t want to have to tell Karin that, when she knew that Karin desired to have Obito tried and possibly killed for breaking her heart. But that was the truth, and there was nothing either of them could do about it right now. “Perhaps,” Kushina tried, holding her hand out for her sister, “you could try to ask Naruto yourself?”

Karin did not take Kushina’s hand. Instead, she crossed her arms over her small chest and turned her head away. “Ask him,” she repeated, stated. “And why would he tell me, when I am nothing but his aunt? He has his mother now, his fiancé, his master back home, his advisors, his delegates. Why should he divulge anything to me, who is only half of his blood to begin with?”

Kushina’s eyebrows knitted together. She laid her hand back over her lap for a moment before scratching her head. “What is this, this attitude? Why do you speak like this?” 

“You,” Karin said, pointing a thin finger toward Kushina, “and everyone else around him are what is important. I am nothing, nothing. Have been nothing, ever since I returned to maiden status.” Kushina looked up Karin’s finger, all the way up the length of her arm and then to her face. She noticed that Karin’s eye was twitching. 

“You are not nothing,” Kushina said firmly. “You are important, important despite your marital status. Obito was a coward, and a fool. Your value is not based in him, or the stupid things that he did.”

Karin grit her teeth for a moment. “That is easy for you to say. So, so very easy. You, who has been married, who was allowed to bear a beautiful child, who was allowed to be queen. You, who _enjoyed_ your husband, who spent years with him. You, who sat the throne and presided over the realm at his side and on your own.” Karin wiped beneath her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. “You do not get to tell me what my value is based in, when you have always been able to forge your own path.”

Kushina had not been expecting this from her sister. Even as she’d watched Karin’s features change, she had had no idea that these were the emotions flitting behind her eyes. She knew better, however, than to think that this expression had anything to do with the night, or even this trip. Karin had been harboring these emotions for as long as Obito had been gone, as long as Naruto had been alive, as long as Minato had been dead. 

Karin drifted away then, back to her side of the room, and when she sat, Kushina heard her sob lightly. “Dear sister,” Kushina began hopelessly, but Karin held up a quaking hand and shook her head. 

“Do not speak,” Karin said. She turned her head to glance at her sister over her shoulder. “You will never understand.”

Kushina knew that there was nothing she could say, now. She wondered how long this would last. It was the first time in a long time that Karin had confided in her about something so deeply. 

“Sleep now, Kushina,” Karin said. Her voice was a wisp. “Do not fret over me. Forget what I have said. I will speak with Naruto, myself.”

Kushina did not reply, but she made certain in her mind that she would ask Naruto first. And before that, she would have to get down to the bottom of what had happened across the hall.

  
  


“Kushina.”

Mikoto’s voice was flat. Kushina wondered how Mikoto knew who was knocking, but then, she decided not to waste her time thinking about it. Somehow, she knew that Mikoto had felt her heart crying out the night before. 

When Kushina pulled the door open, she saw that Mikoto’s eyes were just as dull as her voice had been. Kushina trailed her eyes around the room, but she didn’t know what she was looking for. She stood awkwardly in the entrance of Mikoto’s room, not sure what to do with herself. Her hands twisted about, and she thought about how she usually didn’t fidget. She’d never fidgeted around Minato. Then, she thought about how she didn’t really have time to be here, but this was more important than her duties. She couldn’t have gone and done anything before she came and spoke to Mikoto.

“I knew that you would come.”

“Did you?” Kushina looked up from her hands and the intricately weaved rug beneath her feet. There was the crest of Mikoto’s blood, with the fans, the eyes. Kushina felt a strange chill go through her as she looked at them, and thought maybe she was looking at someone else. Why, why was she nervous? Why was she so fretful? Mikoto was the one who had been lying and omitting her thoughts the last time they had spoken (though Kushina distinctly remembered thinking about her sister at that time, it was _Mikoto_ who had been all wet and frightened). Kushina hated herself as the feeling of longing welled up inside her when Mikoto turned around once more from her rack of clothes. 

Mikoto nodded in a silent response to Kushina’s question. “Didn’t suppose I’d know why, but I knew.” Mikoto was handling some of her newer dresses delicately. Kushina realized, as the silence stretched, that she didn’t know why she’d come in here, either.

“You’ll be leaving soon, yes?” Mikoto said eventually.

“Yes,” Kushina echoed. “Tomorrow morning.”

Mikoto nodded, and then went back to examining her clothes. Kushina’s eyes drifted to the window, where she realized a draft was coming through. She frowned at it and scratched her head. “What happened here?” Kushina moved toward the curtain that seemed hastily hung as it blew open against the weak breeze. She leaned out just slightly, and saw a drop that had no bottom. Kushina closed her eyes quickly and backed away from the window.

“It is nothing,” Mikoto said, with her ever flat affect. Kushina didn’t like this person standing before her. Never before had she encountered this version of Mikoto. Kushina remembered that Mikoto had gone through a depressive period after the birth of Itachi, but that did not compare to this. At least then, there had been emotion in her voice, there had been feeling on her face. Kushina chanced to draw closer to Mikoto, but did not touch.

“Well… will you tell me what happened last night?” Kushina attempted, and at this Mikoto flinched.

“Last night? I was sleeping last night,” Mikoto said easily, plainly.

Kushina frowned deeply. She reached a tentative hand out, and when her fingers brushed Mikoto’s arm, she felt something in her chest. Mikoto’s fire was weaker than Kushina had ever felt it. “Mi,” Kushina whispered. “You do not have to hide the truth from me.”

Mikoto did not pull away from Kushina, but she did not return the touch. She would not look at Kushina’s eyes, either, when Kushina tried to catch them. Kushina felt her patience growing thin.

There was a mist over the room when Mikoto finally turned to Kushina to face her. She allowed Kushina to run her fingers over the ridges of her face, underneath her eyes. When Mikoto spoke, there was a scratch to her voice. 

“This will be the last time that I see you.” Certainty. There was no doubt in the statement, it wasn’t a question.

Kushina took a step back, withdrawing her hand from Mikoto and instead hugging herself. “What do you speak of? I may visit at any time.”

Mikoto shook her head, and her long black hair came to hang over her eyes. She ran her fingers into it and left her hand in a fist when her eyes were uncovered. For the first time since Kushina had come in here, she saw a flash of _something_ behind Mikoto’s eyes. It was sorrow. “If you visit again, they will kill you. Or take you hostage,” she corrected herself in a whisper. “That works even better.”

“What? Who?” Kushina asked incredulously.

“Who do you think, who do you think?” Mikoto’s voice was beginning to get louder. “He would love nothing more than to lure your son back over here, forgetting everything in order to save you.” Mikoto shook her head frantically again, and let her hand fall to her side. “So you cannot come back. No matter how badly you may want to. No matter if I will die without you.”

Kushina felt helpless as she listened to Mikoto. “He? Is it Obito?” Mikoto’s eyes flashed hot when Kushina said the name.

“Don’t speak it,” Mikoto said quickly. She came closer to Kushina and covered her mouth, her eyes moving around the room frantically. “He will hear you. Or someone else, but he will know.”

Kushina wrenched Mikoto’s hand from her mouth and got a strong hold of Mikoto’s waist and shoulders. “Now you listen to me,” Kushina said gruffly against Mikoto’s ear. Mikoto was shaking, but she wasn’t afraid. “I don’t care what he might do. I don’t care what they might say, what any of his followers might report. If I want to come,” Kushina said, her fingers digging into Mikoto’s hip to stop her from wriggling away, “then I will come. I will come, leave my beautiful son, and I will visit your wretched son and all of these people I hate, the Nara and everyone else who dwell in this godforsaken rock.” By then Mikoto’s hands had come to Kushina’s arm around her shoulders, and she was scratching at Kushina in a way that only made Kushina feel more hot on the inside. There it was, there it was. The fire.

“Why?” Mikoto managed to whisper, her voice a breeze against Kushina’s throat. Kushina suppressed the shiver she knew Mikoto wished to draw from her and leaned her head down so that her lips might brush the skin of Mikoto’s neck.

“Because it is for _you_ ,” Kushina said, growled. “I don’t care what I have to do. No one is going to tell me that it is the last time I may see you.” Kushina reveled in the way that Mikoto had stopped fighting, and how she could feel Mikoto’s knees knocking against hers. “What did I tell you before? I belong to you. _You_ belong to _me_.”

This time, Mikoto had nothing to say. And maybe, maybe, Kushina should have asked how Mikoto had come to the conclusion that Obito would try to capture her, try to kill her if she came back. Maybe, she should have asked more about the window, more about the night of the storm, more about why Mikoto’s affect had been so blunted before. But really, she couldn’t have. She didn’t want to know.

Rather than talking, Mikoto dragged Kushina to the bed with her, and Kushina felt the fire like she’d never felt it before. All of the fighting, the arguing, the secrets and the lies, they all meant nothing, they all disappeared when Mikoto slotted their lips together. She was already whining. Kushina gasped at the grip Mikoto got on her hair.

“You don’t— understand,” Mikoto was trying to say. “He won’t let you come back.” Her fingers were scratching the back of Kushina’s neck, causing Kushina to shiver.

“I don’t want to talk about your brother, my brother-in-law,” Kushina growled.

Mikoto struggled to gather enough breath to do anything but whine again. Kushina shoved her knee between Mikoto’s thighs and told herself she didn’t care if her dress was soiled, she’d put on another one. She needed to be dressed more elegantly to face her son, anyway.

Mikoto was so warm, so willing, despite the fact that she was trying to tell Kushina what to do by digging and scratching into her arms. “Listen to me,” Mikoto tried again, this time getting a harsh hold on Kushina’s knee, stopping her from moving any farther.

“What, what is it? Do you really want to discuss Obito? Right now?” Kushina sat up and moved away from Mikoto. She crossed her arms in annoyance.

“I have to tell you, even though he might be listening,” Mikoto said. She drew closer to Kushina despite Kushina’s attempts to turn away from her. Mikoto pushed her face against the skin of Kushina’s neck, and Kushina felt herself melting as she began carding her fingers into Mikoto’s hair.

“Tell me, then,” Kushina said quietly. The flush that had been creeping down her neck had now settled high onto her cheeks, and she was ok with this. As long as Mikoto told her the truth, she supposed that what she’d wanted to do could wait.

“He came to me. That’s why the window is like that.” Mikoto gestured across the room blindly with a hand. “He’s… he is close.”

“Close?” Kushina’s fingers stopped in Mikoto’s hair for a moment. “Where?” The hair at the base of Kushina’s neck rose and her eyes flitted across the room.

Mikoto shook her head. “Close to gathering himself an army. Loyalists who hate the fact that Konoha has been split like this. And _spirit_ magic, I—” Mikoto sucked in a sharp breath and Kushina felt her shoulders shake once. “My brother, spirit magic. Anyways.” Speaking about Obito was a large effort on Mikoto’s part. Kushina resolved herself to be patient above all else.

“He wants the world to know, the realm. He wants everyone to know who he is.” Mikoto’s voice was but a whisper now. Kushina still felt it against her neck, though, soft and weak. 

“That he is your brother, the son of Madara?” Kushina asked, though she already knew. But when Mikoto shook her head, Kushina pulled away from her and frowned. “That is who he is,” she stated. “He is your brother, and since he lives, your son has no real claim. Not yet.”

“Yes,” Mikoto said, answering a question Kushina hadn’t asked. “But Obito is something else.”

“Something else besides the heir to Uchiha?” 

Mikoto nodded. Kushina saw Mikoto’s eyebrows furrow and she heaved a hard sigh before lifting her eyes to Kushina’s. “Do you know that my mother loved your father?”

“I do,” Kushina said slowly, “but sparingly. Father passed so early.” Kushina closed her eyes and imagined Hashirama, his smile and his laugh. She remembered his hands in her hair, his eyes on her, his voice in her ears. She remembered the way that he held her to his chest and read her accounts of great heroes, though she did not care. She remembered that then he would take her to the beach nearest his tower, and she would run about and bring him all the prettiest shells. When Kushina opened her eyes, she found that she had shed a tear.

Mikoto shook her head. “You cannot really know. Mother was… she believed that Hashirama was more than a man. She believed that he was the solution to all problems, that all bad things in this world could be remedied by his smile, by his words.” Mikoto’s lip drew between her teeth for a moment, as though she were staving off a sob. “And yet, she also knew that it could never be that way. Hashirama could never belong to her the way she irrevocably belonged to him.”

“Because of Mother,” Kushina mumbled. Mito, kind but firm Mito. “Madara felt that Mother snatched Father from her.”

“She did,” Mikoto said with a slight edge. “Hashirama and Mother were, um.” Mikoto was struggling for the word. Eventually, she gave up. “I will say that they were together, though that does not nearly enough to cover it.” 

“Why do you tell me this?” Kushina asked. “I know that they were in love. I know that Madara hated Mother and that Father died because of it. I know that they… had our curse. They had this between them, too.” _This between them_. This, this that was set to explode at a moment’s notice. This that could break itself apart and, by the same forces, put itself back together again. This that was their life’s wish but would also inevitably destroy them.

Mikoto pinched the bridge of her nose, much like Kushina had seen Itachi do. “Before me, was Obito. Before Father, was Hashirama. Before Mito, was Mother.” Mikoto allowed it to sit in the air between them, growing heavier the more that Kushina traveled the path that Mikoto was leading her down. 

Madara, Hashirama, Obito. Kushina shook her head, slowly at first, but then faster and faster until she was dizzy. She stood on with wobbling knees and attempted to leave the bedside, only to collapse a few feet away. “No, no,” Kushina murmured, over and over. No, there was no way. No _way_ that Hashirama was Obito’s father. No _way_ that Obito was her _brother_. It was not possible. It wasn’t.

“You’re lying,” Kushina said suddenly, sitting up fast. Mikoto frowned. 

“Lying? What would I gain from such dishonesty? I am afraid for my life, my children’s lives, your life. That is why I told you, because I— you needed to know. To protect yourself, and your family. It is not only Itachi.” Mikoto stood. “It is Naruto, too.” When she took a few steps towards Kushina, Kushina crawled away clumsily and then drew her knees to her chest. 

“You are telling a lie,” Kushina reiterated, this time with no quiver to her voice. “You are lying.” She dragged herself across the floor and used the leg of Mikoto’s vanity to help herself stand up. Kushina felt something sharp in her chest, like a thousand hot needles prickling into her heart all at once. 

Mikoto gave a helpless breath and stomped her foot lightly. “Kushina,” Mikoto said firmly, pressing her lips together for a few seconds. “I love you.” Kushina winced at the words and turned her face from Mikoto. Her voice sounded like it was a million realms away. Kushina supposed she should have heard that Mikoto’s feet were coming closer, but there was too much blood roaring in her ears.

“I love you,” Mikoto repeated brokenly into Kushina’s hair. “Why wouldn’t you believe me?” Mikoto wrapped her fingers around Kushina’s arms, holding so gently but with so much desperation that Kushina thought she might be stuck to this spot forever, here in this place, wherever Mikoto wanted her. Wherever they could be, and the feelings between them were allowed to be real. Wherever it was just the two of them. 

But it would never be just the two of them again. Kushina knew now why Mikoto said she may never return. She did not know what Obito was planning, but she knew now that she had been mistaken before in her certainty that he would come to Naruto without malevolence. There was no way to know what Obito would do, where he would next appear, who he would next seek. He was the heir to it all, not just _this_ side. Kushina shivered. No one was safe, no one. And worse, the worst of all was that she had been sure that she was at the bottom of it, the very trough of what the curse between their two clans could cause one half to do to the other. But with this, this plotting, these secrets, these lies? It did not matter how Kushina felt every single piece of her heart shattering into a million others, until there was an infinite amount of her viscera strewn out across this room when she closed her eyes. It did not matter that she thought that Mikoto stabbing her through the chest right now would be a better feeling than this. It did not matter that Kushina loved Mikoto with every part of her that had ever existed, that existed now, that had existed in her father, that existed in her son, and existed the same for her in Madara and Sasuke. 

What mattered now was that it would never be the same again.

Kushina shook her head and pushed Mikoto away again. “I require audience with my son,” she said, nearly choking on the words as the lump in her throat rose and grew thicker.

Mikoto reached vainly for Kushina as she staggered across the room. She had to get away, she had to get away. “Will you come back later? Tonight? Please.” Kushina wished she hadn’t felt the pain in Mikoto’s voice the way that she had. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Kushina said shakily. She didn’t close the door behind her when she left the room. It was too much to hope for that Karin would not be in the room when she stumbled in, but she wasn’t. 

Kushina fell onto her bed and let out a shaky breath that turned into a weak scream. She didn’t know how long she laid there, shaking and sobbing into the fine stitching of the pillow. She didn’t know how many times she lifted her head, struggling for breath. She didn’t know how long she’d been beneath the covers, she didn’t know long it had been before Karin came into the room. 

“Kushina?” Karin rushed to her sister’s side, and fought her to get closer when Kushina attempted to push her away. 

“Leave me, leave me,” Kushina kept saying, until Karin pulled her up and forced her head to her chest.

Karin just held her sister, despite her clawing and scratching, until Kushina stopped fighting and allowed herself to be consoled. Karin did not speak, just let Kushina cry until there was nothing left.

Could she tell Karin what she knew, could she ever? Obito was her brother, her brother-in-law, her family. They shared blood just the same way that he shared blood with Mikoto. Her world felt shattered now, fake. Nothing was real, nothing was what she had thought it was. She had been sure, she had _positive_ that she knew the full depth of the evil that swirled between herself and the Uchiha. She had watched Madara hate Mito, she had been told about Hashirama and Madara’s affairs that had ended with the demolition of the old Uchiha seat as well as Hashirama’s early death. But now, now. Obito was the culmination, the _embodiment_ of this curse. And he meant to kill anyone in his way.

And… and _Naruto_ was in his way, too. It wasn’t simply Itachi and Sasuke, it was Naruto, too. Just as Mikoto had said.

“We must leave,” Kushina said. “Now, now, we must leave now.”

Karin frowned. “Now? But we weren’t supposed to depart until the dawn. It is a bit early. I’m sure Naruto is having his day sleep right now, and besides. We must bid our hosts farewell at supper tonight.”

Kushina shook her head violently and tore from the bed. She dragged her trunk to the middle of the room and started shoving her things into it with no care about how the delicate and imported fabrics should be handled. “We do not have time for the dawn. We may all be dead by then. Hurry up, hurry! Go wake Naruto and Sasuke. We must leave this very instant. I will pack your things for you.” Kushina was already nearly out of breath from her hasty rushing about the room.

Karin did not seem to know what to say in any sort of objection, so she said nothing. She brought one groggy Naruto and one fretful Sasuke into the room a few moments later. 

“Mother, why have you interrupted our repose?” Naruto yawned fiercely. Sasuke stood next to him, her big brown eyes trained on his face with an emotion that Kushina decided she hated. “You know better than any—” 

“Hush, Naruto,” Kushina snapped. Karin gasped. Sasuke’s eyes were finally drawn from Naruto, and they were now filled with worry. Kushina paid it all no mind. “I need you two back in that room, putting all of your things away. We are leaving.”

“Were we not supposed to leave tomorrow?” Sasuke tried. “I have not said goodbye to my mother or my king.”

“And you won’t,” Kushina replied. She ignored the mention of dawn and the mention of Mikoto, and shooed them away. “Go, _now_ , and be finished by the time I come to get you. Or I will do it for you, and you do not want that.”

“Mother. I am your king, and this trip isn’t scheduled to end until tomorrow.” Naruto’s voice was suddenly void of all remnants of sleep. Kushina looked up from where she had been carefully unlocking Karin’s trunk.

“You are my son.” Kushina stood, and though Naruto was taller than her, she still towered over him. “We are leaving now.”

They stayed that way, blue eyes locked with green. Kushina forgot that her sister was there, forgot about Sasuke, forgot where she was. She was looking at Minato, watching the menace in his eyes swirl like the whites on the waves until, just as they always did, they crashed. She had hardly ever argued with Minato, and it was always over nothing. Where to hold a ceremony, should they spend money on this? Who should they invite to something, should they pardon a criminal? Never, never, had they argued over a matter of life and death. And just like that, when Kushina blinked, there was Naruto, his lip curling in a way that was foreign to Kushina’s eyes, to her heart.

“Naruto,” Sasuke whispered, tugging at his elbow. He wrenched himself free of her and turned on his heel without a word or a backward glance. Sasuke looked from Kushina to Karin to Naruto, a helpless leaf in the wind, before huffing a defeated breath and following Naruto hastily.

Kushina looked at the place where Naruto had walked away, and this time, she knew the feeling that welled up inside of her as she turned away. 

Heartbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a pivotal day for kushina ... how long will it be before everyone knows who obito _really_ is? who will be the one to tell? haaa stay tuned


	16. make up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should really start, ya know... putting the requirements? but they don’t fit in yet! they’re coming i promise, in time
> 
> make up - ariana grande

**_Naruto_ **

To her credit, Sasuke didn’t question him until they were on the road to the east. She had been giving him terribly perceptive looks for the past few hours, but she remained silent on the matter until they were alone, completely and utterly.

Sasuke laid her hand across Naruto’s where he was drawing his finger carefully across the path they meant to take back to Senju country. Her delicate fingers wrapped around the back of Naruto’s hand, distracting him from attempting to read the words on the map. He looked up at her face to see that her expression did not match the velvet of her touch. Her eyebrows were drawn together and her lips were pressed into a hard line.

“What troubles you?” Naruto asked, though he had half a mind. He knew that Sasuke had seen the exchange between himself and Kushina, and he knew that she was not happy about it.

Sasuke took her hand from Naruto’s and instead laid it over his shoulder. “My king,” she began, her voice even and steady, “you know what troubles me.”

Naruto still shook his head.

Sasuke withdrew from Naruto completely then and retreated to the other side of the carriage. “You have never taken such a tone with your mother,” she said finally.

“How would you know? You haven’t known me for years.” Naruto went back to the map so that he didn’t have to watch her doleful brown eyes searching his soul.

“You speak the truth,” Sasuke said. Naruto glanced at her to see that she’d crossed her arms over her chest. “But what I do know, or, what I _thought_ I knew, was that you respected her.”

“I do respect her,” Naruto quipped. “But is she my queen, or am I her king? I arranged this trip for _you_ , if you recall.”

“To visit my brother, yes.” Sasuke didn’t seem to appreciate Naruto’s tone.

“Yes,” Naruto repeated. He laid the map down next to himself carefully and leaned back against the cushions. “She was not in any kind of authority to end the trip before it was meant to be over.”

“She is your mother. One day isn’t serious,” Sasuke argued. She was _arguing_ with him about Kushina, in Kushina’s favor. How the world was changing.

“One day is plenty. She wasn’t in charge.” Naruto crossed his arms, too. “I am.”

“You are,” Sasuke said. She looked to the ceiling of the carriage for a moment before leveling her eyes with Naruto’s once again. “So do you really think that it is wise to foment this sort of in-fighting, when the people will look to you for strength and guidance?”

“The people do not know much,” Naruto said. “They won’t be able to tell.” He was trying to convince himself more than her.

“The people know plenty,” Sasuke retorted. “And for what they do not know, they imagine. If there is a rift between the two highest rulers in their country, the king and his mother, the people don’t need to know why. The lies they tell themselves are far more interesting than the truth would ever be.”

Naruto gnawed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, until Sasuke made an off-handed comment that he’d better stop that. “Alright, princess.” Naruto didn’t miss the way Sasuke’s features darkened, but he pretended to. “What would you suggest I do?”

“Reconcile with your mother before it is too late,” Sasuke said simply. “You know much better than I what she may be capable of internally; the last thing you need is her working against you within your closest courtiers.”

Naruto didn’t reply, because he knew that what he wanted to say would only upset Sasuke. That wasn’t something Kushina would do. That was something _Mikoto_ would do.

They spent the rest of the ride in a tense silence, only broken by Naruto asking Sasuke to help him read things. She never refused to help him, even though her tone was flat. He noticed, with a strange sort of triumph, that she still softened just a tad when he needed her.

Naruto felt guilty, of course. Just as Sasuke had said, he’d never spoken to Kushina like that. He couldn’t put his finger on it, the reason, but he knew that it had to do with the situation of Obito. He was sick of his mother and his aunt, asking him what he would do and what he would say. 

  
  
Karin was even more persistent than Kushina had been.

“What do you mean, you will talk to him?” Karin had nearly shouted.

“Exactly what I say,” Naruto said. “I will talk to him. I will extract his truth from him and then make him see that there is a way to achieve his goal, whatever it may be, without a war.”

Karin shook her head over and over. “No, no, no. You do not know him. I knew him.” She paced back and forth in front of Naruto, her feet creating a rhythm against the floor. She stopped directly in front of him, a finger outstretched in his direction. “You cannot simply _speak_ with him. It will do no good. In fact, it will do nothing but harm. As you speak to him, he will have his people killing innocents by the thousands. And for what? Words?”

“So I should declare and join a war that may leave a stain on this great house for the rest of time?” Naruto asked. “What if we are wrong, and he doesn’t harbor such insidious motives?”

Karin scoffed. “The stain will be that we let a boy become king so quickly. The stain will be that we lost the war, our boy king, his beloved betrothed, and the heir to all Senju. The stain will be blood, and it won’t be on the house. It will be on your hands.”

  
  
At the inn, both Karin and Kushina spoke no words to Naruto. He should have expected as much, but it was still painful. He had wanted it to be like it was before, when he was defiant but still had Kushina back in his pocket by the end of a few hours. That had always worked been the case when he was young. Perhaps it was because he was her only son, her only child; and, perhaps it was because he looked so much like Minato, who also got nearly everything he wanted from Kushina.

But it was not so, today. Naruto attempted to ask his mother if she liked the wine, and he tried to offer Karin his seat at the bar, but neither acknowledged him with more than a grunt or a glance. The only words Naruto heard Karin say during the entire rest stop was that they should be moving soon.

The next time they stopped was for the night. Sasuke was reluctant to get into the bed without Naruto telling her what was going on in his mind.

“Nothing but your pretty face, princess,” Naruto said. He watched as Sasuke rounded the bed so that she was facing him, standing directly in front of him. It wasn’t a long walk; the bed was meant for one person.

“You know that you’re a bad liar, right?” Sasuke had her hands on her hips in fists. Naruto eyed them wearily before she threw them in the air in frustration. “You expect me to believe that this isn’t bothering you?”

“It’s been a day,” Naruto said. “Surely, this will pass.”

“It will pass when you clear your conscience of whatever caused you to act that way.” Sasuke went away from him then, and instead knelt at the foot of the bed. When Naruto peeked over the chipping wooden frame, he saw that she was fiddling with a sword.

“My conscience?” Naruto asked, puzzled. He pretended not to have noticed her blade, for his own sake, and waited for her to come back to him before he continued. “What do you mean, my conscience?”

“It is…” Sasuke sighed. “It is the voice in your head that tells you what to do.” She had taken a seat across the room from Naruto, in a chair that rocked slightly as she sat forward, speaking with her hands. “It tells you when something is right, and when something is wrong. It holds the key to your remorse. Your mother has never told you about your conscience?”

Naruto shook his head. “I don’t do things that are wrong,” he said proudly. Still, now that Sasuke mentioned it, Naruto realized that it was this so-called ‘conscience’ that had been blaring when he jawed to his mother. Something in him had been telling him not to do it, but there was a bigger part of him that felt the need to exercise his authority.

“Suppose that you don’t,” Sasuke said with a small scoff. “Suppose that you make no mistakes, and that your path is always lit for you. What do you do, then, if you see someone doing what you know is wrong?”

Naruto laid flat on the bed to avoid Sasuke’s eyes, Instead, he watched the paint slowly drifting down off of the ceiling. “I would advise them to do the right thing.”

“That is all?”

“What can I do? Force them? To make them do something to which they are not inclined is wrong.”

“What kind of a ruler stands by and watches his people do wrong?”

“Someone who wants to be loved, who need not sow fear.”

“Someone who engenders no respect.”

Naruto sat up fast just as Sasuke stood from the chair. The wood creaked terribly. Naruto winced at the sound. “So, what. Because I do not want to use force to exact my laws, I lose my right to respect from my people?”

Sasuke shrugged. “Do you? Who would bother to care what a king says if he lets any peasant do any thing? Because he’d rather _speak_ than rule? Sometimes the people don’t know what’s good for them.”

“But I thought they knew plenty?” Naruto scratched his chin. “Speaking is a great part of ruling.” There it was again, his _conscience_ telling him not to say what was on the tip of his tongue.

“But I wouldn’t expect you to know that, princess.”

Sasuke’s hands balled into fists and fell to her sides. “Big talk from you, Your _Majesty_.” Naruto could see the fire rising in her eyes, could see the blood rising to her cheeks. “I don’t even know who you are, anymore.”

“You never knew me, isn’t that what you liked to say?” Naruto was near yelling by now, but he didn’t know why. “You haven’t known me as I am now.”

Sasuke rolled her eyes hard and turned her back to Naruto. When she spoke, he couldn’t quite hear her. All he could hear was the edge in her voice, just as sharp as the blade that she’d hidden underneath their bed.

“What did you say?” Naruto stood. Sasuke didn’t speak again, didn’t make another sound until Naruto came up behind her.

“I _said_ ,” Sasuke began, turning and pushing Naruto away, “that maybe I don’t want to!”

Naruto fell onto the bed in shock when the back of his knees hit the mattress. He couldn’t bear to look at Sasuke’s eyes for very long, for he feared going blind. The flame was too bright, much too alive.

“Maybe I don’t want to be acquainted with this new king of Senju. I never knew you to be particularly strong, or possessing your own will, but this has opened my eyes.” Sasuke’s nose flared out a little and she jabbed her finger into Naruto’s chest. “You are _weak_.”

“I am weak? I am weak?” Naruto wrenched Sasuke’s hand from his chest. “I am weak, because I do not want to burn castles to the ground and force people to abide by my version of the right thing just because I have decided that they do not know any better?”

Sasuke’s eyes widened impossibly and her face flushed a deep pink. “Here it is. Here it lies.”

“What, what? Where is what?”

“You speak to my blood.” She wasn’t asking.

“Your blood is steeped in the tales of ferocious violence and mindless bloodshed.” Naruto never faltered, though he had a small inkling that he should.

Sasuke made a small sound. At first, Naruto thought that she might have been crying. His anger subsided and he reached a hand out to her. “Princess, I—”

Sasuske smacked his hand away. She was laughing. “Mindless bloodshed? Oh, yes.” Sasuke began walking a circle around the room, mumbling to herself. “Because my line has always known what is ours and lacked the fear associated with taking it.” Naruto watched her with contempt. “It only makes sense that you’d think so, since you know nearly nothing. Only what your mother has told you. Do you think she tells you the truth about me?” Sasuke was coming closer to Naruto again, this time with a darkness in her eyes that Naruto had never seen. He averted his eyes from her, but not in fear. Strangely, there was a novel sort of heat rising in him, beginning in his stomach and spreading slowly all across his body.

“Who are you, to me? Who is the wind to the flame?” The bass in Sasuke’s voice only made the heat worse. Naruto watched her approach, her careful steps and her elegant frame mesmerizing him as she crossed the room toward him again. _She is really a woman,_ he thought wildly and without reason. Naruto’s mouth was dry by the time Sasuke was so close that Naruto could see her chest heaving. He thought he might have been able to hear her heart. But that was probably his own.

Sasuke leaned down and took Naruto’s chin in her hand just as he closed his eyes to avoid hers. He gulped and didn’t try to hide it. “Do I bend to you, is that it? Do you order me around, tell me what to do, and keep me in a box forever? Do you make the rules? Must I be only your wife?”

Naruto shook his head without opening his eyes. He couldn’t, couldn’t look at her. What if she got closer, what if she closed this gap? What if he lost all of his control, then what? He didn’t know what would happen if she made him—

“Look at me, Naruto.”

When his eyes fluttered open, there she was. Pale and even glowing in the light of the moon that shone in from the window. Sasuke’s eyes were still so alive, but with a different sort of vitality. Naruto didn’t know the name of it, and somehow he knew that this wasn’t something he could ask his mother or his aunt about.

“Say it.”

“N-no,” Naruto ground out. He hated the way his voice shook and cracked, but it seemed that Sasuke was pleased with it. She released his face roughly and stood straight once more. 

“Now, what are you going to do?” Sasuke was looking down at him. Naruto didn’t hate it. He cleared his throat this time before speaking.

“I’m going to apologize to my mother.”

Sasuke nodded once before going to the foot of the bed once more. “Good,” she said before she gathered her night clothes. Like always, she made Naruto close his eyes before she changed.

“We’re to be married soon,” Naruto said carefully. “Don’t you tire of…” his voice trailed off as he thought about a way to word his question. He only meant that she shouldn’t be so worried about what he thought, because they were going to be married. They were going to have children some day. Naruto rubbed a hand over his face and threw that thought out his mind just as fast as it came.

“Of keeping my dignity?” Sasuke turned quickly, her hair flying to sit on her shoulders just as Naruto opened his eyes. “You wish to look upon me, and for what? A carnal desire? I do not have to share myself with you one time, king of Senju.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Naruto said hopelessly. He knew he’d have no chance of trying to articulate what he _did_ mean as long as Sasuke’s sharp tongue kept lashing at him. He watched her round the bed again, this time to the far side, and get beneath the covers. Sharing a bed with her was different tonight. They weren’t talking. Usually, Naruto told Sasuke an outlandish story that made no sense but never failed to put them both to sleep. She would lay with her head on his chest or her face pressed into his neck, and he’d card his fingers into her hair. Naruto was certain that their hearts beat in tandem.

On this night, they were both situated with their backs to one another. Naruto was facing the window, and his eyes traced the panes as he struggled to remain silent and to not draw Sasuke closer. It was just… so cold. Naruto felt his toes sticking out of the bottom of the blanket. In the silence, he thought about the hot feeling he’d had when they were arguing earlier. He had never had such a feeling before. Remotely, maybe, he reasoned with himself; but never so strong, never so _hot_ and white. Naruto thought about Sasuke’s eyes, so dark and deep. He shivered as he remembered her voice, and thought that he’d be fine listening to her talk to him like that forever.

Naruto blinked his heavy-lidded eyes open wide. She had told him what to do. Sasuke, Sasuke had told him what to do. And, yes, it was the right thing to do, he knew this. But who was _she_? For all her talking, she was only to be his wife.

Oh, but then he remembered the way that she said it, and the pinch of her nails digging into his chin, and his eyes fluttered closed again.

Naruto startled when Sasuke spoke.

“Naruto?” Sasuke whispered. There was no shifting, so Naruto knew that she was still facing away from him.

“My lady,” Naruto replied. He felt her hair on his back, and then her hand on his arm.

“Tell me a story,” Sasuke mumbled. Naruto turned onto his back so that he was facing the ceiling. He expected Sasuke to cling to him, but she was still being stubborn.

“Are you sure you want to hear what I have to say? I thought that I was but a fool,” Naruto said. He turned his head to glance at her, and saw that she was pouting and averting her eyes. She was so beautiful. Naruto didn’t even try to tell his heart to stop trying to reach her, not this time.

“Yes,” Sasuke said simply. She lifted her eyes to his and gave him the most defiant look possible.

“Then come here.” Naruto opened his arm, and he was patient even as Sasuke pretended that she did not want to come closer. “Princess,” he said eventually, “you won’t be able to hear my story all the way over there.” As though they weren’t already breathing the same air.

Sasuke shifted closer, until Naruto felt her breaths on his neck. He hummed in deep satisfaction when his fingers made contact with her hair. “Thank you,” he murmured. Sasuke gave a small hmph. Naruto felt it like an arrow in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oo a little, ahem, tense in there...


	17. ELEMENT.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaa it’s been a while but here he is! my most favorite psycho 💞
> 
> ELEMENT. - kendrick lamar

**_Obito_ **

Oh, he  _ wished _ he had some sort of fancy place to house these maniacs.

This cave was dank, and it dripped all hours of the day and night. Each day, when Obito woke up on his stolen mattress, he cursed his father once more. If it weren’t for that lecherous man, he might have somewhere with lights to sleep. 

But anyway. This group of rigamarolls were loud, and they each had their own deviant undertaking. Sasori and Deidara bickered constantly about  _ art _ , as though that held any standing in the fruition of Obito’s plans. Hidan spent hours on the hill on top of the cave, mumbling what sounded like incantations and having full conversations with the spirits. Nagato was quiet, at least, but his sad eyes gave Obito a strangely uncomfortable feeling. It was difficult to get a grasp on any of them at a given time, but he felt that he was better off not knowing what crawled around in the recesses of their minds. They were scary sometimes.

“My king.”

Obito rubbed his eyes hard before casting a stony glance toward the entrance to the room he dwelt in. It was Tsunade, pulling her hood down around her neck to reveal her face. Obito sat up straighter and regarded her carefully. She rarely sought him, unless there was something important to tell.

“My lady,” Obito said, offering Tsunade a slight nod. “What brings you to my chamber?”

Tsunade cleared her throat. “There’s movement across the border,” she said, just as solemn as she always was.

“The Senju retreat?”

Tsunade nodded. She took a few steps into the room, looking over the low fires Obito had lit in each corner. “You ought to have more light in here, my king.”

Obito scoffed. “I can see just fine,” he told her, which wasn’t a lie. She had begged him to allow her to examine his eyes, even superficially, but he refused. He wouldn’t let anyone get close to them. Obito gave Tsunade a closer glance when she didn’t speak again. “Don’t tell me that you came in here only for that?”

Tsunade turned from where she had been twisting some foliage between her slender fingers. “No, of course.” A slight tint came to her cheeks as she shook her head. She faced him fully and played with her hands in front of herself. “Won’t you tell me where the purple one came from?”

Obito rolled his eyes. “Tsunade,” he said with annoyance. “You know very well that I can never tell you that. I can never tell anyone.”

Tsunade’s shoulders sagged in obvious disappointment. “Yes, I… apologize, my king.” She attempted to resume her serious demeanor from before. “It would seem that there is a rift growing between the boy and your niece.”

“He is my nephew, too,” Obito reminded. “A rift, you say?”

“Ah. I often forget, since he is so flaxen.” Tsunade cleared her throat. “They argue frequently about the nature of his magic. I also got word that there was a similar sort of schism between your… sisters.”

“My sisters.”

Obito stood then and crossed the room, to his desk. His sisters. His sisters. He opened a drawer and laid his fingers over the curling yellow parchment that pronounced his existence. One Uchiha Madara and one Senju Hashirama, blood united and within his veins. Obito balled a hand into a fist.

“They’re fools,” Obito said eventually, so quietly that Tsunade took the chance to lean closer. “They’re fools, all of them. The boy, Naruto. Not fit to rule the squires in his yards. To marry Sasuke? My sisters’ children will bring ruin to this realm. And them,  _ them _ .” Obito shook his head ruefully. “ _ Kushina _ and  _ Mikoto _ , stuck in a mill wheel of never ending misery. The same as Mother, the same as Father.” Obito’s mind wandered to Madara, her surly expressions and the way that she always faltered behind closed doors when speaking on the Senju. Then, his mind turned to Hashirama, who he rarely laid his eyes on before his death. Good riddance. He was weak.

Obito turned around in his chair. “Do they still call themselves in love?”

Tsunade shrugged. “I suppose so. Their quarreling was not about magic,” she explained. “It was about honesty, and about your plans.”

Obito raised an eyebrow. “Mikoto,” he mumbled. He should have known very well that Mikoto would try to warn Kushina. It was all according to his plan. He knew that the cursed relationship between the two of them would doom Mikoto to tell Kushina, no matter what he’d threatened as consequences. The corners of his mouth turned up.

“Anything else, my lady?” Obito asked graciously. Tsunade shook her head. “Then leave me, please. I must gather myself. Please assemble the rest of them.”

“Yes, my king.” Tsunade took her leave without another word, and Obito turned to face the desk once more. His eyes scanned over the writing on the birth document. He saw his name, scrubbed from the books that held the history of his mother's house. Mikoto’s doing, he knew. Obito drew in a deep breath and carefully placed the paper back into the drawer from whence he’d drawn it.

All his life, Obito had known his place. He had watched his mother sit that throne, and had known of Hashirama doing the same, far away. It would be awhile before he knew the reason why he possessed the earth magic, but it made sense. He knew very well that there was nothing of his mother’s husband in him.

All his life, all his life. He knew that he was meant to rule, to be over the people. They were his people, this was  _ his _ realm. He wondered what his life would have been like if Madara had never told him about Hashirama. Would he have ever faked his death in that bar fight? Or would he have stayed, been the cursed uncle, doomed to never see his children rule? Would he have stayed with the Uzumaki girl, given her children, anyway?  _ Heirs?  _ To nothing but a name. Obito scoffed at that thought, and at the image of his wife in his mind. 

Karin. An inconsequential casualty in all of this, to be sure. He hadn’t ever meant to hurt her, to break her heart as such. But he couldn’t have stayed with her, for his fear of succumbing to the curse was too great. Maybe he’d loved her, once. Maybe, he’d even seen himself with her. But then, Madara changed his life. And he couldn’t have stayed with her, not even if her life depended on it. His certainly never would.

Obito stood from his desk and straightened his clothes. He gave a small huff and tried to tamp down the already-growing annoyance. Most of his followers were only loyal to him because they felt that he was on the winning side. He knew that if the tide shifted, they wouldn’t be around for much longer. But it didn’t matter. He had no love for them, either; but he wouldn’t lose.

When Obito exited his chamber, he saw that Tsunade had done her best to follow his order and begin the ritual. He saw Sasori and Deidara, stationed at opposite ends of the circle, as always. They bickered too much and ruined the proceedings. He also saw Hidan, seeming anxious and looking as though there was somewhere else he needed to be. And then there was Nagato, at Obito’s presumed left, while Tsunade sat in the middle. The shape situated in her forehead glowed a deep purple, and her eyes were closed. Her hands were raised and her legs were crossed carefully.

As he entered the main part of the cave, the general murmuring stopped. “We thought you’d never show, hm!” Deidara whined.

Obito ignored him and instead took his place atop the rock he called his throne. He watched Tsunade craft the mist and gave a stern look to each of his minions before he closed his own eyes. After a few moments of darkness, Obito began to see something moving behind his eyelids. “Focus, everyone,” he called to the rest of them. He gave a hum of deep satisfaction when the image became more clear.

There were Kushina and his wife, sitting in a litter. Obito could see that they were talking, but he didn’t know what about.

“It’s about you, my king,” rang Tsunade’s voice in his mind. “Karin is discussing whether or not Naruto will take action against you.”

As they watched, Karin seemed to grow more agitated, but Kushina’s face remained like stone. She was barely responding to Karin, only a nod or a glance. Obito thought with disgust that this is what love does, what love would have done to him, too. He knew that this change in Kushina was because of Mikoto. He hated them.

“To the boy,” Obito commanded. He strained his mind to focus on Naruto’s face as he remembered it, and that of Sasuke. It seemed that Naruto was alone inside his litter. He was asleep. Obito curled his lip. He had no hope for this one.

“Where is the princess?”

“Outside, by herself.”

Obito flicked his eyes open quickly, much to the chagrin of everyone else in the cave. “Ehh, you have to warn us before you disengage,” Sasori complained loudly, rubbing the space between his eyes. Obito had already stood up and leapt from where he’d been sitting.

“My king, where are you going?” Hidan called after Obito. He stopped and turned after taking a short breath.

“I have to watch them cross the border myself,” Obito said easily. Hidan narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

“Oh, so suddenly?”

“Yes,” Obito said. “Do not presume to ask me about my business,” he added.

“Fine.” Hidan crossed his arms. The way that he puffed his chest out was not lost on Obito. “But you have to let one of us come.”

“For what reason?”

“Reinforcement.”

Obito cut his eyes over Hidan’s shoulder to see Nagato, standing closer by than he had noticed before. Nagato rarely chimed in to anything. Obito raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue. 

“You, then.”

Nagato’s face faltered and he shook his head. “M-me? But, Your Highness, I was simply—”

Obito put up a hand. “Mind the sniveling. We are leaving as soon as night falls. And save your energy- I will need rain.”  
  


A mist rose around their horses as they followed the caravan closely. Obito kept his eyes on the moving parts while Nagato worked to create a shield of rain, not only to mask their location, but to sense the magical energies that were milling about. He’d need to know if Naruto and Sasuke were having any sort of discussion. He cared not for what his sister told his wife. He knew that there was nothing of import to be learned from listening to them prattle about Kushina’s lifestyle and Obito’s wayward abandonment of Karin and all of her dreams. Even if Kushina told Karin what Mikoto had undoubtedly said, that he was coming soon and with force, it still wouldn’t matter. That was the plan.

Obito watched as the party came upon an inn. With the rain and the night having fallen, he was hopeful that they’d stop soon. “Do they plan to rest?” Obito whispered into the dark and mist.

Nagato nodded without words. He had nothing else to report, or else he would have already said it. Obito appreciated this about him the most; if there was nothing to say, he didn’t waste time speaking.

Obito squinted and watched as his targets unloaded themselves from their litters, one by one. Kushina, Karin, Naruto, Sasuke. He rolled his eyes hard at the way that Naruto offered Sasuke his hand to help her down to the ground. “Folly,” he mumbled to himself. The way that they seemed to fawn over one another when no one else was watching was sickening. Obito could not believe that this, this third generation in his lifetime, was still being plagued with the same misfortune. He only believed it because they were fools.

Kushina and Karin entered the inn first, leaving Naruto and Sasuke to one another. They were having some sort of animated discussion, the specifics of which would have probably bored Obito to no end. He just wanted to make sure that Sasuke did not know anything from Mikoto. He hadn’t been watching them interact too closely, so he wasn’t sure if her words were to be believed.

She’d tried to say that she barely spoke to Sasuke, even before the plot to join their houses.

“I do not have any special love for her,” Mikoto said snidely. She was angry because Obito had ruined her night dress.

Obito surveyed the grandeur of the room and decided to take a seat on the edge of Mikoto’s bed. “Oh, surely.” He didn’t  _ actually _ know, but he couldn’t allow her to think that. “The distance is just too much for you, is that it? Your shining achievement, your daughter. A princess.”

Mikoto shrugged and leaned against the vanity. “She does not shine any brighter than a dark cloud.” She shook her head. “She’s just like… like—”

“Like Mother,” Obito said. “Like me.”

Mikoto curled her lip. “She is nothing like you. You do not exist.”

Obito chuckled. “I do not exist. That’s what you’ve told them, yes? The king of this land does not know the truth of his family history. And neither does the other, for that matter.” Obito stood and crossed the room to stand before Mikoto. “So if I do not exist, tell me why I stand before you?”

“Delusions of fever,” Mikoto said easily. She always spoke with her chin up and her chest out, no matter how wrong she was. It was something Obito had always admired about her.

“The only delusions you suffer are the ones attached to Kushina.”

“Don’t speak her name.”

“And why not? She is my dear sister.” Obito grinned as Mikoto’s face grew impossibly more pale. “Yes, that’s right. But you knew that, didn’t you? Mother wouldn’t have died without telling you that.”

Mikoto crossed her arms and looked toward the floor, finally. “You speak about Mother as though she ever wanted you.”

At this, Obito felt his blood beginning to heat. He stepped into Mikoto’s space and held a hand out as though to strike her. When she cowered, he let his hand fall to his side. “Do not ever presume to speak like that again. Do you understand? Not to me, not to anyone. I will always know. Always.”

Obito took a few steps back and regarded Mikoto with contempt. He had always been jealous of her and Madara’s relationship. He might have been into the swords and war-talk like her, but Madara’s eyes had always really been on her doll of a daughter.

But he would not let Mikoto see his doubt.

“She wanted me the most,” Obito said coolly. “I, the breathing remnant of the love she held for Hashirama from the moment they met. I, the blood of Uchiha and Senju. Clearly, the most powerful being in the realm. Meant to be a king,  _ the _ king.”

“And you say that I am delusional?” Mikoto scoffed. “She rarely had time for you when I got old enough. It was about me. Me, marrying and producing heirs. You’d already disappointed her by then.”

Obito spit on the floor at Mikoto’s feet. “Is that what she told you? Because I never led us to victory in a great war, and your sub-par husband just happened to be in our army? You killed him. Of course she thought good of you. Evil.”

“I did not…” Mikoto’s voice trailed off and she chewed her lip. Thinking better of a lie, she instead changed the subject. “You have just proved your point invalid. She did not care for you when something much better came along.”

“Mm. Itachi, yes? Your fool son.”

“Itachi is a greater king than you could ever aspire to be.”

“He inherited this land in a time of peace!” Obito yelled. “He has never had to make any sort of decision. The only reason he even came into power was because you were so busy playing wife with a married woman that you  _ killed _ his father!”

“Now you listen to me!” Mikoto echoed Obito’s tone as it grew in volume. She stepped closer to him, and there was her chin in the air once again. It didn’t matter that her clothes were soiled, or that he was clearly much more powerful than she. She would never back down to him. Not if her life depended on it.

“You listen, you insolent wretch,” Mikoto jabbed a finger into Obito’s chest. “You know nothing about the relationship between myself and Kushina. You know nothing about true love, or about this… this affliction! You never loved Karin, it was only ever for your own gain. If you married and had children, maybe Mother would remember you existed!”

“Be quiet,” Obito said, his voice barely above a whisper. “ _ You _ know nothing. You think that you have found the answers in Kushina, when there was actually no answer. She is the problem, not the solution. You are not in love with her. You’re simply bound to her. And you let it happen. You didn’t  _ want _ it to not happen.”

“You speak nonsense.” Mikoto shook her head again. “I… love Kushina. I love her. There isn’t anything in this world that can make me feel any different, especially not the words of you. A traitor.”

“Traitor? This is my land, all of it is.” Obito opened his left hand and held it out at arm’s length. “Do you see this? This is the west. We are here. I am the king of this.” Obito opened his right hand then and held it out. “This is the east. I am the king of this, too. So who, sweet baby sister, is the true traitor?” Obito brought his hands together in front of him and pointed to Mikoto. “Would it really be me? Or would it be your brat son and that of your  _ soulmate _ ?”

“You’re an embarrassment to this family,” Mikoto said. “To this family, to the Senju. Wherever you attempt to belong. It won’t work. You weren’t meant to exist.”

Obito thought he could kill her in that moment. He was weighing the option when he heard the seal he’d placed on the door beginning to crack. “Hmph. There is fūinjutsu in my midst.” Obito glared at the door for a moment before deciding that it wasn’t worth meeting his niece and nephews tonight. He grabbed Mikoto’s arm and she gasped in surprise.

“Do not tell anyone of this,” Obito said in her ear. He held her arm tighter when she shuddered. “And if you do, well. You see that I know where you live, yes? Your quarters and that of your precious son. But,” Obito clicked his tongue, “I care not for him. He would be too easy to kill. Tell anyone that I came to you tonight and I will murder Kushina. And you’ll watch.”

Mikoto moaned and attempted vainly to pull herself free. “You do not scare me,” she said quietly, but it was an obvious lie.

“Ah, ah. One more thing,” Obito said thoughtfully. “If I find that you’ve told anyone, and word gets out, you can kiss this castle goodbye. This house will be wiped off the face of the planet. I mean it. You and everyone else. Because I do not care for you. Only for those that I can control.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some big secrets in this one, in the form of familial quarrel :)


	18. Bad Religion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all, and welcome back to your regularly scheduled hot mess mom! she's really fucking going through it guys
> 
> bad religion - frank ocean

**_Mikoto_ **

“Mother, please. You have to eat.”

Itachi had been trying to get Mikoto to eat something, anything, since the day that Kushina had left. But what was the point?

“No,” Mikoto rasped. Her voice had a scratch to it because she hadn’t used it in a while. It had been three days now, and surely Kushina was home now. Home, to never return. She had half a mind that wished that Obito made good on his promise and blew them all off the face of the planet. She would rather die than feel this.

Itachi huffed in annoyance. “Why, Mother? Is it because Sasuke is gone? Is it the heat? Do I not spend enough time with you? Please tell me why you are so despondent.”

Mikoto shook her head. “I can’t, could never.” Though she loved her son more than anything, she knew that she’d have to take her feelings about Kushina to the grave with her, as well as Obito’s truth. Surely he’d kill her if she told her Itachi, and what would she have left, then? Itachi’s only option would be to begin to mobilize the military. And then, Obito would know. He would know that she had told, and then he’d go and kill Kushina.

Itachi grimaced. “Is there nothing that I can do? I do not enjoy this state. You are not yourself.”

Mikoto closed her eyes for a moment and blocked Itachi’s voice out. He sounded too much like his father right now. Instead, Mikoto thought about Kushina. She thought about the first time they’d met, the same way that the Senju and Uchiha always introduce their newly of-age children.  
  


It had been a hot day. Their birthdays were in the summer. Mikoto had felt like singing. She wanted to frolic on the sands of this new land. The journey had been long and she wanted to get her limbs moving. She and Obito had begged Madara to let them, just for a few moments, but she was staunch.

“No, children,” Madara had said, shaking her head and petting each of theirs. “We do not want the Senju to spread news that you are sand-mongers and filthy salt beasts. Perhaps you may play later, with the… princess, if they do so allow.”

Mikoto had gotten over it quickly, but Obito was upset for the whole morning. “It isn’t fair,” he’d whined when Madara left them to get dressed. He winced as the seamstresses put him in his clothes. “Why do we have to stand in front of them? Who cares, really?”

“You have no mind for decorum,” Mikoto said snidely. “It is custom. Please, procure some manners before the afternoon has fallen.

Obito rolled his eyes and remained silent the rest of the time they were dressed, albeit in a sulky sort of way. When Madara came to retrieve them, she let out a short burst of laughter and kissed each of their cheeks.

“Never have I seen such ravishing little monsters!” Madara exclaimed. Mikoto preened under her mother’s attention, while Obito held onto the sleeve of Madara’s dress so that they may hurry along to the throne room.

On these days, where there were usually courtiers and common people trying to plea for loans, the throne room was instead cleared, and only the royal family and their closest guards were allowed in. Madara threw the doors open to reveal Mito and her husband, whom Mikoto had never learned the name of. He was king Senju, that was all she knew; coming from a lesser family and having taken Mito’s last name after the tragic passing of Hashirama. Mikoto gazed up at her mother as they were led inside of the room, warm and red with carpets and drapes. If she closed her eyes for a moment, she could smell the sea just out a little east. But she couldn’t close her eyes, because Madara was making a puzzling face. As though she would rather be anywhere but here, and doing anything but this.

Madara released her childrens’ hands and ushered them to the front, just as they had been instructed by Father before they’d arrived. He was sick, Madara had told them, too sick to make such a journey across the border and such. Something in Mikoto missed him and wished he was here, but this thing was small. She was the most excited to be seen and introduced.

Obito stood before a girl with hair so red as a late sunset, while Mikoto faced who must have been her sister, though she was thinner and smaller, and looked more like Mito than anyone else. _An Uzumaki_ , Mikoto thought momentarily.

Mito cleared her throat, causing Mikoto to look away from the girl she was standing in front of. “Uchiha of West,” Mito began, in a voice that rang high into the top of the room, “who do you bring before us?”

Madara closed her eyes tight for a moment before she spoke. “Senju of East, I bring you Obito, and Mikoto.” At each of their names they stepped forward and nodded once. Mikoto felt so elegant and grown up, especially because she knew she was much older than this girl. “Who do we stand before?”

“These are Kushina and Karin.” The two fire-haired girls stepped forward and nodded, just as Mikoto and Obito had. Karin, she must have been, was twisting the toe of her shoe into the carpet. Mikoto’s chest swelled with the sort of pride one only feels when they are older than someone, and that is the only reason that the other must listen to them.

“Who do we mean to celebrate?” Madara recited. Mikoto glanced at her mother and saw that she was straining.

Mito put a hand on the taller girl’s shoulder. “Kushina, as she is now on her path to the throne.”

Kushina’s face flushed a soft pink at the attention of everyone in the room. Mikoto found herself generally intrigued by her features. She eyes green like fresh grass, but also just a bit darker. Her face was a nice shape, and she held her features in a gentle but rugged kind of way. Something about the subtle arch of Kushina’s eyebrow drew Mikoto in. Into what? Mikoto blinked and shook her head lightly.

“Be there anything else we must know?” Madara asked carefully.

Mito shook her head. “That is all today.” She looked down at Obito and Mikoto and offered them a warm smile. “Welcome, Uchiha of West. May you enjoy and revel in what the East has to offer, starting with supper tonight.” Mikoto heard her brother scoff and mumble something under his breath, but she ignored him and instead plastered a wide smile onto her face.

Mikoto had been warned not to wander, and she usually heeded Mother’s every word. But she had never _been_ here before, there was so much to _see_ , and to hear, and to experience. So she told herself that she would only go down to the ground floor, and that she would only talk to three people, before she went back up to Mother and Obito. She would need to be clothed and combed and perfumed for supper, but right now all she wanted to do was explore.

This castle was a lot older than the one she lived in. In fact, it was so old that Mikoto was sure it was older than time itself. There were cracks in nearly every wall, and the ones closer to the outside had plants growing in them. Mikoto knew that being close to the sea, this half of the kingdom probably had plenty of international trade. They surely could afford repair, but they decided to keep the palace in this state. It was timeless; she was sure that it had always looked just like this. There was the land inside of these walls and columns, and it would always be like this. Mikoto’s mind next turned to her own home, and how dank it was. She breathed a full breath of salt air as she descended some stairs, and thought how wonderful it would be to live here instead. There was the sun, winking at her every time she passed a window. There were the clouds, and they weren’t grey!

Mikoto felt almost in a daze of wonder by the time she reached the bottom floor. It was so bright here that she found herself squinting perpetually. She stopped short when she saw princess Senju approaching her in no hurry. 

“Um, where do you think you’re going?” Kushina eyed Mikoto suspiciously.

“Um, I…” Mikoto cleared her throat and held her chin out. She was a princess, too, and she was princess _before_ Kushina. She was nearly the oldest one here. “I am exploring,” she said evenly.

Kushina raised an eyebrow. Mikoto blinked a few times to draw herself from the sparkling green of Kushina’s eyes. She was just a girl, just a girl that Mikoto didn’t even know. And a _girl_ at that. She was saving herself for whomever was chosen for her by the council.

“Exploring, hm?” Kushina was suddenly talking close to Mikoto’s ear. “I know a better place,” she whispered.

Mikoto rubbed the back of her neck when Kushina stepped away, in an attempt to get the hair to lay down flat. “A better place?” Mikoto repeated with excitement before catching herself. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why should I go with you?”

“Why shouldn’t you? That is the better question.” Kushina stood with her hands on her hips, her dress bunched up in her fists.

Mikoto pursed her lips. She wanted to learn more, she did. But could she trust this Senju girl? She had heard so many things about her from Madara. Mother never lied, and Mikoto knew there would be big trouble if she was caught galavanting with this girl.

 _But_ …

“Oh, alright,” Mikoto said eventually, causing Kushina to let out a loud huff of relief. Mikoto looked up Kushina’s arm as she held out her hand. 

“Well, come on!” Kushina said, waving her hand when Mikoto didn’t immediately accept. Mikoto tentatively took the hand she was offered and followed Kushina in the opposite direction of the front doors of the castle.

Kushina took her past heavily carpeted stairwells that led up to the heavens and large archways that revealed sprawling rooms beyond. Mikoto marveled at the way that the trees and roots were growing inside the bricks of the palace. This place was a part of the earth, just as she’d been thinking before. Further along, Mikoto could hear talking and banging from behind a few doors that she assumed led to the kitchens. She watched Kushina’s hair flying behind her, like a sail, or something. A wing, or something that could take Mikoto far away from here. Then she looked at their twined fingers and felt a pinch in her chest.

They were both out of breath by the time Kushina dragged Mikoto past some pillars. She wasn’t sure when they’d gotten outside, but when she inhaled she breathed in the smell of deep, dark dirt. It was surely the most familiar sensation she’d encountered thus far. Kushina walked out in front of Mikoto and held her arms up to the sky. The sun was beholden to her, because clearly it owed its own beauty to her. She grinned wide, and Mikoto thought to herself that the world was behind that smile, shining at her and only her.

“Isn’t it marvelous?” Kushina exclaimed. She turned her back to Mikoto, to face the greenery of the overgrown courtyard, and the spell was broken.

“Where is this?” Mikoto asked fretfully. She’d have no hope of finding her way back without Kushina.

“This is my secret place,” Kushina said over her shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows. Mikoto gave a small smile despite herself. “I come here whenever my sister irks me, or Mother makes me feel like I am growing up too fast.” Kushina walked into the center of the yard and sat, fancy dress and all. Mikoto winced even as Kushina waved her over.

“Come!” Kushina patted a space beside her. “Sit!”

Mikoto picked her way across the tall grass until she could sit next to Kushina. She pulled her long hair up around her shoulders so that she could examine the grass and nettles she knew were beginning to accumulate. “Oh,” she huffed to herself. 

“Your hair is very pretty,” Kushina offered politely.

“Thank you,” Mikoto said absently. She was too engrossed in digging each blade of grass from her hair. Next to her, Kushina was giggling.

“What are you laughing at?” Mikoto asked indignantly.

“Oh, it is nothing. I just have heard tell of the Uchiha and their hair,” Kushina said casually.

Mikoto let her hands fall into her lap and frowned at Kushina. “What have you heard and who says it?”

Kushina shrugged. “Mother. She knows plenty of your lot.”

Mikoto sniffed at this. “My mother knows plenty of _your_ lot, too. And she has told me a great many stories about your father.”

Kushina’s eyes turned down toward the grass then. She was silent for a moment, plucking blades of grass and laying them across her lap. Mikoto started to feel her heart beating hard, and her hands nearly started to sweat. She knew that Hashirama was dead, why did she have to bring it up? She cursed herself in her head and wondered if Kushina would attack her the way Obito did when she said something he didn’t like.

“I miss him sometimes,” Kushina said eventually. Mikoto startled when she heard Kushina’s voice.

“I am sorry,” Mikoto said quietly. “I do not mean to—”

“What is there to be sorry for? My father was a great man. He loved me, and he loved all the people in this land.” Kushina’s smile seemed forced, but Mikoto didn’t press it. “Is it difficult?” Kushina asked suddenly.

“Is what difficult?” Mikoto asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Being a princess,” Kushina said dreamily. “Is it any fun? Or do you wish that you weren’t ought to do it?”

Mikoto ran a hand into her hair as she thought. “I suppose that it is more fun than it is not. I get to wear the prettiest dresses, and everyone pays attention to me. I get to sit with my Mother in her meetings sometimes, and she tells me things often that I know she doesn’t tell my brother.”

“What’s that like?” Kushina asked with excitement. “Having a brother?”

Mikoto rolled her eyes. “He is quite bothersome,” she huffed. “He is loud and obnoxious, and he doesn’t like to bathe. He always drags Mother outside to teach him swordplay and tactical war strategies, though he’s sure not to see war in his lifetime. Plus, he is sure that he will be the king, but how can he really know that? What if Father outlives him? And what if I marry higher?” Mikoto lifted her nose. “I intend to.”

“You’re thinking about marriage?” Kushina seemed shocked at the notion.

Mikoto shrugged. “I suppose. It’s the next step.”

“But don’t you want other things?”

“What else is there?”

Kushina gasped and her green eyes shone with disbelief. “Why, so much! There’s lands across the sea, and all sorts of exotic animals to see. There’s beaches and mountains and volcanoes, and forests full of mysteries! I have heard of witches in the trees, and oracles. Of course, there are arbitrary things too, like _marriage_ and _ruling_ , but I care not for them. They shall come when they do. It is adventure that I hope to live for.”

Mikoto hummed in response to Kushina’s musing. She knew about _most_ of these things, of course. She had learned many things about many places. But she had never looked outside of the walls of the castle she’d been born in. Was the outside world really so interesting? Kushina made it seem so. Kushina seemed to be able to make anything interesting.

“I suppose I did not think of things like that,” Mikoto said eventually. “All that I have ever imagined is being the queen one day.”

Kushina rolled her eyes. “Well, yes, but that’s so boring. And there are so many other things that could fulfill your life. Traveling the world, eating new food, falling in love.”

“I will fall in love with my husband eventually,” Mikoto said, to quell any doubt in Kushina’s heart.

Kushina curled her lip slightly. “I hope to never marry a man. They want nothing but one thing,” she said, shaking her head in disgust.

“I think two things. You’re forgetting power,” Mikoto laughed.

“Yes, of course.” Kushina nodded. “How could I forget?”

“Did your father seek power?” Mikoto asked, in spite of knowing that she probably shouldn’t have brought Hashirama up again.

“I suppose, the same way any man does. He wasn’t zealous.” Kushina twisted some of her hair between her fingers. “I do miss him,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. Mikoto thought about her own father, sick and in bed. The healers were not so sure that he would make it. She bit her lip and took Kushina’s hand.

“It will be ok,” Mikoto said, the same way she’d heard Madara telling Obito. “He may have passed, but he is still here. In your blood, in your heart.” The smile that Kushina gave her made Mikoto know for sure that she would have to see it again. It would have to be the last thing she saw before she died.

  
  


Mikoto blinked rapidly and looked around. She had forgotten the present, had forgotten about Itachi trying to get her to eat. She looked to Itachi, who was staring at her with intense despair.

“Mother? Are you alright?”

Mikoto touched a hand to her shoulder; it ached. Itachi must have tried to rouse physically. She hadn’t noticed. It didn’t matter, anyway.

“No,” Mikoto said plainly. She pushed the plate Itachi had brought her away from herself and instead stood to look out the window. It still wasn’t a window, yet. The glass still had not been replaced. Mikoto leaned against the wall just near the empty window frame, even though it was growing cold. The wind blew her night clothes, but she didn’t feel it. Even when her hair whipped into her face, she did not care.

Kushina was out there, and she was never coming back. Mikoto knew that she would never lay with Kushina again, or see her smile, her _eyes_ , or hear her voice, her _laugh_ , or smell her hair and know that she was near. She was _gone_. She may as well be dead. And Mikoto may as well have been dead, too.

All Mikoto ever thought about was Kushina and this curse. Why, _why_ did it have to be them? Why did it have to be at all? Why did Madara and Hashirama fall in love? And why Mikoto and Kushina? And why Sasuke and Naruto? Why? Obito and Karin had escaped unscathed. What was so special about them? Sure, Karin seemed to be suffering a broken heart, but that was what _usually_ happened. For two generations there had been bloodshed and life lost, going far beyond broken hearts. Why? Mikoto felt a low, thrumming sort of anxiety beginning to rise in her, just under the surface of her skin. She wanted to know.

Mikoto’s eyes drifted to the Nara Forest just as Itachi sighed and gave up on her for today, just like he did every day, only to come back the next morning. She looked over the swaying tops of the trees and the mist that was swirling between the leaves. It was alive, surely, but in a somber sort of way. This was no vibrant forest like those that Mikoto had rode past many a time on her way to the East. These trees weren’t happy. Mikoto took a step closer, only to feel her toes being bitten by the cold wind as her foot left the stone of the floor. She drew her foot back quickly and inhaled sharply. Her heart beat fast and she pressed her lips together and closed her eyes.

The forest whispered to Mikoto when she opened her eyes. It was Kushina’s voice, saying something about _oracles_. Mikoto ran her hand into her hair and stared down wistfully at the treetops. She rarely left her chambers, and no one was calling for her anyway. Itachi had passed on word that she was unwell. Who would notice? Mikoto turned her head from the trees and looked to the trunk at the foot of her bed. She crossed the room and knelt down, distracted only by the wind blowing the curtain open again.

“This isn’t for me,” Mikoto told herself as she rummaged for some plainclothes. “This is for her. It is for us. It is for the world.”

Maybe there is no oracle in this forest, Mikoto thought to herself. Maybe there are only trees and the wind. But it wouldn’t matter, anyway. Nothing mattered how except the answers. She couldn’t ask Itachi, smart as he was; there was no way that she could put this burden on him, of knowing the truth about herself and Kushina, or Obito, or Madara and Hashirama. She couldn’t ask them, either; they were both long gone, and Mikoto wasn’t sure she’d get the truth from either of them, anyway.

If there was a way that she could learn the answers on her own, she’d take that route. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what will she find in the forest? will she ever make it there? what will itch do now that his mother is officially out of commission and there enemies everywhere?? stay tuned


	19. All By Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no requirements filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the king uchiha is s t r u g g l i n g right now!
> 
> everyone is gone and there's danger all around!!!
> 
> all by myself - céline dion

**_Itachi_ **

Despite himself, Itachi had barely noticed that Sasuke had left this time around, even though she hadn’t said goodbye. He didn’t spend too much time up on the levels of the castle above the ground. He had far too much to study and to plan.

When Itachi was alone, he was searching the records for any words about Obito or Madara. Of course, there was plenty to read about his grandmother, and most of it he already knew. If it wasn’t a story she’d told herself, Mikoto had surely divulged it once or twice, though she didn’t usually recount too many tales. She cared much more about preparation for sitting the throne. Still, Itachi hoped that he may find something, _anything_ , about Madara that might connect her to Obito besides the fact that he was her son. But there was barely any mention of Obito, in official writings or published stories from royal scribes. There was nothing, nothing except a wedding announcement. Itachi remembered being told that he had been sequestered away by Madara, for some reason he still did not know. It didn’t matter now, because everyone knew that Obito had married Senju Karin.

Independent research proved fruitless and frustrating, so Itachi spent much of his time convening with Shikamaru and devising plans about how to deal with this threat. 

“Verily, Your Majesty,” Shikamaru said, pointing to a part of the map labeled _Nara_. “You may pass through this wood freely, as you know. It is where our land touches the Inuzuka near the border that I have slight worry.”

Itachi shook his head. “There is no worry. If Mistress Tsume raised her boy correctly, then he should heed these calls. Any word from the others?”

“Word from the Hygua,” Shikamaru reminded. Itachi shuddered at the memory of Hinata’s words. _Tsunade_ , helping the usurper? Itachi had thought her name to be just a legend, but she had come back from across the ocean, it seemed. And, of all the places, in this was where she lay her aid. Itachi pitched the bridge of his nose.

“Anyone else?”

Shikamaru sat at his desk and opened a drawer, revealing a pile of letters. “There is talk from my sources that the Yamanaka know more than they are willing to part with.”

“What is the reason for that? This is not a matter of fealty. Their lives may be laid to ruin.” Itachi shooed Shikamaru from where he was sitting so that he may begin a draft.

“Perhaps the lady of the house has not been sufficiently warned of the danger,” Shikamaru offered. Itachi raised an eyebrow at the letters he was scrawling.

“You mean to implicate the king of Senju,” Itachi said without looking up. He heard Shikamaru make a contemptuous sound.

“Whose job is it to warn their bannermen of imminent war? Certainly not ours,” Shikamaru said angrily. “I think it true and _dangerous_ that the Inuzuka and the Hatake had no knowledge of this threat before we commissioned them. And for what? Because the boy cannot read? That is not the problem or undertaking of the West.”

Itachi put his quill down and gave Shikamaru a hard look. “I do not love him any more than you do,” he began before pausing. “But,” he continued, “he is to be my family. The heirs of Senju are to be my kin.”

“It is still not your problem to warn his vassals of something that’s coming right to their doors,” Shikamaru said. “It isn’t as though he wasn’t made aware of this by his own watchmen, the Yamanka included.”

“I am aware.”

Itachi hated being reminded of Naruto’s shortcomings as a king. What was he to do, _help_? He had his own many people to govern. Never mind the fact that Naruto was soon slated to be _family_. Itachi had no clue what was going to come of that. Would he be expected to swear his half of this land to Naruto, as a dowry for Sasuke’s hand? He would never do it. He’d already given Naruto plenty just to keep her where she was, on his side of the country, without a promise or agreement to actually wed her. And even if he planned to, to keep the peace, Mikoto would not let it happen.

Shikamaru seemed to have had enough of the snide comments, as his expression and voice changed. “Your Highness,” Shikamaru mumbled, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the door, which they had closed and bolted before they’d come in for this meeting. “Something troubles me.”

“Speak it,” Itachi said, sitting back and giving Shikamaru his attention.

“Do you remember when I brought your mother down here, and we discussed the letter from the man calling himself Obito?” Shikamaru’s voice was but a whisper.

Itachi nodded and labored to keep his face and tone even. “Yes, I remember? What of that?”

Shikamaru hesitated before leaning forward in his chair. “There are… whispers, my king, whispers that Obito lives. And that he harbors some dark secret that will change the realm.”

Itachi scratched his chin as though in thought. He had already surmised that Obito was indeed his uncle, and therefore the true heir. He could not fathom any secret darker than this. Eventually, he sighed. “Do you think that the words he wrote are true?”

Shikamaru nodded grimly. “I believe it is worse than what he even let on. I cannot begin to imagine what he hides, or why he has been gathering such a strange milita as I have heard, but I do think that it goes beyond what he told us. Could he really reveal himself so deeply to his enemy? He has kept something close to his heart.”

“What do you think it may be?” Itachi asked. This time, he didn’t have to feign interest. Something about Obito was tugging at a string in his mind, but he could not unravel the thought.

“Something to do with his blood, or his magic,” Shikamaru said. He lifted one shoulder in an anxious shrug. “It is beyond my powers of deduction without more clues, but it isn’t something that we should forget about.”

Itachi frowned. “Learn more,” he said sharply, “and bring it to me swiftly.” He stood from Shikamaru’s desk and gave him a nod after he’d crossed the room. “Draft tidings to those we discussed today,” he said. “I must check in with my mother.”

“Fare she any better? Has she taken any food, any drink?” Shikamaru resumed his spot at his desk when Itachi stood.

Itachi shook his head slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “She is still in her trance. Please do not alert anyone to her current condition, I beg you.”

Shikamaru shook his head. “Though she is vile and has no love for me, she is my queen. I will abide by her until her dying breath. If keeping this secret will keep her safe, you may consider it kept.”

Itachi frowned at this, but decided it wasn’t worth pressing. “Very well,” he sighed. “I am off. Send the letters hastily, and… put some more research behind your notion than whispers.”

Shikamaru bowed deeply. “Yes, my king.”

  
  


Itachi knocked three times on the door to Mikoto’s chamber. After the third knock, which had been a bit more forceful, the door creaked open. A sense of foreboding surrounded Itachi and gripped his heart as he opened the door fully.

The room had a strange aura. Itachi got the feeling that someone could see him, but he could not see them. He looked down at the rug with the crest of the house, and wondered vaguely why he hated it. He noticed also that there was no more mist; it seemed that the window had been re-paned. Good, then. He didn’t want to have to worry about his mother in here with a giant hole in her wall leading to a sheer drop.

That was the only good thing about the room, though. Itachi blinked once after taking one step into the room and felt that he was outside of himself for a moment. He glanced again at the rug, and shuddered before turning away. He looked to the bed, and felt a sadness creep over him as he saw Mikoto laying still on her bed.

“Mother?” Itachi called. She did not stir. Itachi crept into the room and noticed the tray of food he’d brought Mikoto this morning was empty. Not even the dishware remained.

Sticking a hand out, Itachi attempted to shake his mother awake. “Mother?” he repeated, this time more frantic. He lifted his hand and looked at it in awe before catching a glimpse of the mound on the bed. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t anyone. There was no one there, but in fact a few pillows with the covers drawn over them. Itachi threw the duvet back and let out a cry. There was no Mikoto, there was nothing. Nothing but a letter, quite clearly in her spidery writing.

_My dearest boy,_

_When you find this letter, I will be gone. I cannot tell you where I am going, or why I am leaving. All that I can leave you with is this: be wary of he who calls himself Obito. I know what I said before, about there being no such Obito, but I cannot lie to you anymore. Obito is my brother, your uncle. The heir._

_It pains me to have to leave, and to have to tell you this. I am not well. I do not want you to worry about me, for it is not any sort of illness that ails me. I cannot tell you this, either, but just remember that I love you. I have always loved you, and I will love you with my dying breath. Mayhaps I will be back before you start to miss me._

_Take good care of the realm, and write to your sister. She will need you when the news breaks._

_Best wishes,_

_Mikoto_

Itachi laid the letter down on top of the pillow on which he’d found it. He rushed then to the window that indeed had had its pane readhered. He chanced a glance down at the Nara woods and saw nothing but the dark tops of the green trees and white mist. Itachi looked to his left, to the north, and saw nothing but the same vast expanse of trees. He didn’t like the look of the rain he saw gathering to the south of the castle.

Itachi drew himself back into the room from behind the curtains and sat on the edge of his mother’s bed. How had he not seen this before? Of course, he should have known that she would leave. Was she sick? Had she been taken? No, no. It seemed that she had gone of her own volition, just as she did everything else. He could have had guards watching, patrols to make sure she did not leave her room unless they knew where she was going. 

“Oh,” Itachi mumbled to himself, “but it would have been no use.” Mikoto simply would have lied to them, if she was really bent on whatever mission she was undertaking. Itachi sighed sadly and suppressed a sob. Where was she? Where could she have gone to in the few hours since he’d last seen her? He had been trying to get her to eat and speak to him for two weeks now. Every morning, he came to her with breakfast, and she sat silently until he left. Then he would come to her for supper, and she would not have touched the food he’d left for her. She opened up a bit more at those times, reminding him that she loved him. That was all she seemed to want to say these days: _I love you, my baby. I love you._ Itachi closed his eyes and thought about her voice. So weak and small, but still with an edge of flame.

It felt strange to close the door to Mikoto’s room and know she wasn’t in there. He held the letter to his breast as he walked the short distance between her room and his. These were once Izuna’s chambers, he remembered as he passed beneath the doorway. He had heard the story of Izuna the Loner, who never took a wife nor sired any heirs. Perhaps that was for the best, Itachi thought grimly. Maybe Madara would have done everything in her power to stop Izuna’s kin from sitting the throne. She seemed the type.

Itachi sat at his stone table and placed the letter in front of himself. He placed his wooden weights on both of the top corners so that he may examine the writing closer. Just as he’d thought, this was written today, and soon before he’d found it. The ink had smeared slightly as he’d read over it with his finger. Itachi squinted in the candle light of his room and leaned closer to the phrase that bothered him the most: _She will need you when the news breaks._

What news? News of Mikoto’s disappearance, maybe. But surely, she would have written that. She would have phrased it differently, so as not to be so vague. This was ambiguous by purpose. Itachi leaned back and thought back to what Shikamaru had whispered to him earlier.

“Something about his blood, or magic.” 

Itachi brought out his own paper and laid it next to the letter. He wrote his name and Sasuke’s at the bottom. Above that, he scribbled _Mikoto_ and _Fugaku_. Finally, above this he wrote _Madara_ and the name of his grandfather. Itachi dragged the point of his quill from one name to the next, connecting them by marriage and blood. Yes, it was obvious that Madara was Mikoto’s mother, and that Mikoto was Itachi’s mother. Next to Mikoto, a little ways away, Itachi wrote _Obito_ and connected him to Madara before adding a question mark. Why would Madara, so hungry to keep the family strong as she was, keep an elder son from sitting the throne? She had skipped Obito and gone straight to Mikoto, and then right down to himself. Itachi could not imagine it being her choice to skip her own son. And then, why did it span generations? Why would Mikoto keep it secret, too? What reason did anyone have to pretend Obito didn’t exist now? And why did Obito fake his death? What was the peril of letting this all be known? Itachi frowned at the lines he’d drawn. There was simply something missing. It was clear that Obito had inherited Madara’s fire, as evidenced by the report Shikamaru had brought to him weeks ago.

Itachi circled the word _heir_ and then looked to his own paper. Yes, Obito was the son of Madara, it had been confirmed by Mikoto’s letter. But again, why did she choose that as the way to say it? Obito was the heir of Uchiha, surely.

But maybe, he was the heir to something else, too? 

Itachi shook his head. There was nothing else, or surely the information would be public by now. He didn't want to believe that Mikoto would keep something like that from him, but she had lied to him all his life about Obito. What could he really expect? Itachi felt annoyed and stumped. He supposed that he would need more time before it all became clear. He decided instead to write to his sister, telling her the news of Mother’s disappearance. He hoped desperately that his words would reach Sasuke before anyone else’s did. She needed to hear it from him, and no one else. Certainly not her dundering fiancé.

Itachi slept uneasily that night. He wished almost to be far away from here. Wherever Mikoto was. He wished that she had told him before she left, or at least given hint as to where she was getting off. How could she have gotten past the guards? All fools. Itachi had half a mind to fire them all.

The other half of his mind was on Obito, a man he had no memory of meeting; he surely would not recognize him if he was standing before him. Itachi knew very well that this danger was worse than he’d ever imagined. He was on the brink of war, of death. He wished Mikoto and Sasuke had picked a different time to leave him on his own, instead of when he needed them the most.There was one thing that Itachi grew to believe was true, the longer he laid in the dark and stared at the canopy of his bed: despite all her cunning, Mikoto could not have done this alone. Someone else, a _few_ someone elses, had helped her do this. Someone had helped her, given her supplies, allowed her to slip past the guards in the middle of the day. Someone knew where she was, and he was going to find out who.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> close but no cigar, itachi

**Author's Note:**

> as you might guess, updates for both fics are going to slow down for a little while i’m dealing with finals and such. however, summer is right around the corner, and you know what that means.
> 
> yes! me not having any life and writing fics for you all!! 
> 
> please tell me what you thought of this first one, and what you think might happen based on the tags ;)


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